


The Lost Years

by JolijnBs



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Bottom Harry, Bottom Louis, Children, Coma, Death, Fame, Father!Liam, Father!Louis, Fire, Friendship, Future, Gay, Gay Sex, Happy Ending, M/M, Marriage, Nouis, Top Harry, Top Louis, did I mention a happy ending?, father!harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-29
Updated: 2014-12-29
Packaged: 2018-03-04 05:33:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 103,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2954135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JolijnBs/pseuds/JolijnBs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A story about love, lost friendships and finding the courage to face the future.<br/>Louis and Harry Tomlinson had it all; a good marriage and two beautiful sons. Then one night destroyed it all.</p><p>Ps. My Twitter user is @williamxjames, so you can find me there if you want to :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

 

One

**· · · · ֍ · · · ·**

 

The distant ringing of a phone breaks the silence. When he opens one eye, Louis sees the sunlight washing in through the curtains, making everything in the room blurry at the edges. He pushes himself up and rests on his left hand, reaching for his phone with his right. Rubbing his eyes, he swipes his thumb over the glass screen.

“Tomlinson,” he answers. “Yes. No change, then?” A sigh escapes his mouth. “Okay, thank you. You have a nice day as well.”

The phone locks with a clicking sound as he puts it back on the nightstand. His side of the bed is a mess, and the black cover looks almost gray in the light of the morning sun. He slowly turns his head to look at the other side. The pillow looks like it's new, no traces of a head having slept on it, and the duvet is neatly tucked in on the side. Now sitting up straight against the headboard, he turns his head a bit more to look at the nightstand on the other side of the bed. Next to the same looking lamp as the one standing on his, there is a brown notebook. The leather looks weathered, and the texts and little drawings on it are almost gone. There's a strand made of the same brown leather wrapped around it to keep it closed. He swallows, but then stretches out his neck a bit to look at the pen sitting behind the notebook. They're almost parallel to each other, but he sees that the pen has been moved slightly.

He gets up from the bed and walks over to the other side, the light carpet soft but cold under his bare feet. With a gentle touch, he puts the dark brown pen back in its place. He rests one fingertip on the leather cover and shivers.

A sound coming from across the hallway brings him back to reality, but he doesn't take his eyes off the notebook. He sighs before touching it one more time and then searches the floor for the t-shirt he threw on it the night before. When he sees it in the right corner of the room, he walks over there to pick it up and put it on. It doesn't match the sweatpants he's wearing, but oh well. While making his way to the door, he rushes his hand through his hair, trying to make it somewhat decent. When he steps out into the hall, he hears the same sound, but this time a little clearer. It's a sound that warms and breaks his heart at the same time, and he follows it, walking past a closed door which he refuses to look at. The door of the room where the sound is coming from is already

open and he takes in the sight as he walks in. It's a big, light room with light brown carpet on the floor. The curtains are turquoise, like most accents in the room. Right next to the door is a cabinet made of white painted wood, and on top of it he sees laundry he put there the night before, but forgot to fold. When he looks to the left, he sees a big white wicker basket, with the word 'toys' written on it in the same color as the curtains. He stares at some of the toys inside of it before walking over to the curtains to open them and let in the day.

“Daddy!” He hears the happy voice coming from the little bed standing in front of him, and walking over to it, he sees the little boy lying in it, his arms stretched upwards and a big smile on his face.

“Good morning, James,” Louis answers, trying to smile back. He reaches over to pick him up, and he lets him eagerly.

“Good morning, Daddy.”

“How did you sleep?” He cuddles him and ruffles his brown curls before putting him on the floor.

James rubs his eyes with his tiny little fists and says, “Okay, I guess. I had a nightmare, though.”

“Again? Well, I guess that's no surprise,” he murmurs as he walks over to the cabinet to start folding the laundry. It's not much, just a tiny pair of jeans, just as little t-shirts, and a set of pajamas with some animals printed on it. He's still amazed that a human being can fit in clothes that small, even though James used to wear smaller sizes, of course.

“I guess...” James agrees, and his voice is a bit softer now, much less enthusiastic. “Daddy, can I ask you a question?”

“Of course,” Louis answers, but he keeps his eyes fixed on the small pile of clothes in front of him to escape James' questioning gaze.

“Is Daddy coming home today?”

When he turns around, he sees that James is looking up at him with big green eyes and he swallows the lump in his throat. He knew that would be his question, he asks it almost every day.

“I don't know, James. Probably not.” He realizes that his answer sounds meaner that it was supposed to, but he can't take back his words once they've left his mouth. Every time he tells himself to be nicer to his son, but the answer never comes out the way he wants it to.

“But you've been saying that for so long now...” James looks down at the floor and starts fidgeting with his pajama pants.

“I said I don't know, James,” he snaps at the little boy. See? The words never come out how they should. Sighing and mentally slapping himself, he walks over to the basket to look for a toy. He stops at the stuffed purple monkey and gives it to James, whose tiny hands grab it and hold it close to his chest as he rests his chin on it.

“Daddy gave you that, do you remember?” James nods at his father, even though he was way too young back then to remember it now. “Why don't you play with it for a while and think of all the nice memories you have with Daddy, okay?” James nods again. “I'm going to make us some breakfast and I'll come get you when it's finished.”

Louis rushes a hand through James' hair one more time before walking out of the room. When he turns around, he sees him sitting in the same spot and position, but now with the monkey pressed against his cheek. His eyes are closed and there's a sad smile on his beautiful little face.

Watching James reminds him of another boy, and he swallows before turning around and heading downstairs.

 

He opens the curtains and looks at their front yard and sees that the flowers and plants need watering. It hasn't rained in ages and he's never been one for gardening. He shakes his head as though immediately deleting the mental note to water them later. He enters the kitchen after he crosses the living room and passes the dining room. It looks smaller than it really is because of all the dirty dishes and garbage covering most of the counters and the tiled floor. He doesn't even really notice them anymore. When he opens one of the cabinets, he sees that there are no clean plates left, and he sighs as he grabs two from the counter. He opens the tap and holds one under the streaming water, rubbing it with a brush, but he pays no attention to it. Instead, he's looking at the beach through the window. He sees a couple playing in the surf with a dog, while one of them has a baby tied to their chest. They look so happy. Removing his gaze from them, he puts the other plate under the water. Lost in his own thoughts for a while, the couple is already gone when he looks up again.

 

Once he's finished baking pancakes and scrambled eggs, he walks upstairs to get James. As usual he didn't take the time to clean the pans he used.

“Hey J-man, breakfast's–” He freezes when he sees James holding a photograph. Trying to regain himself, he finishes with a faint smile, “Breakfast's ready.” He grabs the photograph and puts it on the cabinet without looking at it.

“I miss him,” James says suddenly, and those three little words hurt Louis. Really, really hurt him. He's heard them so many times before but only in his head, or coming from his own mouth. Never from somebody else, like everyone's too scared to say it out loud. And suddenly, it seems more real. It's not just him that's hurting, it's his son as well.

He turns his head just far enough to see the photograph, and the man in the picture looks exactly like the young boy wrapping his arms around his leg. He looks down and sees James pressing up against him. Bending over, Louis picks him up and presses his little head against his shoulder.

“I know, little man. I miss him too.”

 

“What are we going to do today?” James asks in a happy voice while he pricks his fork at the pieces of pancake Louis cut for him. Louis' glad that the time he had to feed it to him as well has passed. It's not that he minded doing it, it's just easier this way.

They're sitting at the table on the porch, right opposite each other, and Louis looks at the sea water flooding the sand. There is a staircase attached to the porch that leads to the beach, and he likes to go down there sometimes to walk or run, or just to sit and think. Usually at night, when it gets too quiet in the house. Not many people visit the beach at night, but at least there's the sound of the sea and the seagulls fighting over the food the visitors left behind that day. Actually, the beach is one of the reasons they moved to Los Angeles all those years ago.

“I'm not sure yet,” he answers. “You could play with the neighbors' kid – what's his name, Daniel?”

James nods, but says, “I want to play with you, though.”

“Okay, then I think I'm going to get you something to play with, and then I'll go take a shower. I'll come up with something for us to do before I get you dressed, is that alright?”

James nods again as he finishes his last piece of pancake. “I want to play with my zoo animals.”

Louis knows that James is hinting that he wants to go to the zoo, but he doesn't feel like going today, so he just smiles and gets up to take the plates inside. He puts them in the dishwasher instead of on the counter, which he usually does, and he sighs at the mess. After putting a couple more in the machine, he walks back outside to get James, and he stands still in the doorway to look at him talking to a seagull that's landed on the railing of the porch. He can't hear what James is saying, but decides to let him have a moment with the bird, because he seems to enjoy their little conversation. When the seagull flies away, James is left behind looking a little sad, so Louis walks up to him and takes him out of his chair.

“Where are my music instruments?” James asks as he wraps one little arm around his father's neck.

“In the living room, as they should be, why?” Louis bounces him on his hip as he starts making their way back inside. He looks at his son, and says, “I thought you wanted to play with your zoo animals.”

“No, I want to make music. Like Daddy.”

 

The warm water feels nice on his body as it rinses off the night. Most people think a lot under the shower, but he tries to banish any thoughts from his mind, to numb the sound. There's enough stuff in the house to make him think. Mostly about how his life turned out to be the way it is today. It is absolutely nothing like he imagined it would be.

After he washes his hair roughly, he just stands there for a while, staring at the shower wall. He inhales sharply and picks up a washing cloth to wash his body with. Watching the cloth slide over his tattoos, he tries not to think of the memories the ink carries, but his eyes stop at the little word on the inside of his right underarm, right above the doodle of a skateboarder. He drops the washing cloth and slowly puts his fingers on the letters. Closing his eyes, he feels himself drowning in sorrow.

 

**· · · · · · · ·**

 

“Where can I find the bathroom?”

“One left, two right, and you'll find it on your right hand.”

“Thank you.”

He followed the man's instructions and indeed found a door with a little man drawn on it on his right. He yawned as he walked in, looking at the floor.

“Oops.”

When he looked up, Louis saw that he almost bumped into a boy who was on his way out. He seemed to be a bit younger than Louis, and Louis saw brown curls peaking out from under a beanie.

“Hi,” he said shyly, apologizing for almost running into him.

“Are you a contestant too?” the boy asked.

“I am. What's your name?”

“I'm Harry, Harry Styles.” Harry held out his hand, and Louis accepted the gesture.

“I'm Louis.”

“Just Louis?” Harry laughed.

“Ehm no, Louis Tomlinson.” He realized he was still holding Harry's hand and quickly let it go. Because he could feel himself blushing, he looked down at his Converse shoes.

“It's exciting, isn't it? Participating, I mean.” Harry tried to look into Louis' eyes, but he kept looking in different directions.

“Yeah, it is.” Louis finally dared to look up again, and this is the first time he saw that Harry's eyes were green. They were beautiful. Like a lake, but clearer. Trying to focus on their conversation, he asked, “Are you confident about today?”

“I guess I am. It all comes down to the moment you're actually singing, of course.” Harry shrugged and smiled – it was a beautiful, kind smile, like there's no harm behind it. “It feels a bit unreal, being on the TV show I've watched since I was little, you know?”

Louis realized that Harry is a lot better at this kind of conversation. He used to turn everything into a joke, but for some reason he didn't want to do that with Harry. He was making him nervous. Instead of speaking, he nodded as a response.

“Want to get out of the bathroom?” Harry's cheeks showed cute dimples as he smiled warmly at him, and Louis cleared his throat at the sight of them.

“Well, I still have to use it, of course, since I bumped into you before getting to a stall.” Louis finally managed to take his eyes off of Harry's, but he was now staring at the bit of his hair that was visible.

“Oh yeah, of course.” Harry smiled again. “I guess we'll see each other later, then. Bye.” He waved and then walked out of the door, leaving Louis pinned to the ground but smiling to himself.

This was the day that blue met green.

 

**· · · · · · · ·**

 

“Daddy!”

Louis realizes he's still standing in the shower, and he has no idea how long he's been in there. His head is resting against the wall and his left hand is still on his right arm. Looking down, he slowly removes it to reveal his tattoo; _Oops!_ He stares at it, but is interrupted by James' shouting.

“Daaaad!”

“In a minute.”

“Dahad!”

“I said in a minute!” he shouts back. When James doesn't reply, Louis quickly finishes washing and then turns off the shower. He walks out, the tiled floor cold under his feet that are still warm from the water, and grabs a towel from the heater hanging from the wall. After rubbing his head with it a couple of times, he looks in the mirror and accidentally drops the towel. He's a shade of what he used to be – his skin is almost gray and his cheeks are hollow, his eyes showing no expression. It's clear that he hasn't shaved in days. Running his hand through his messy brown hair, he realizes that it's grown way too long. He considers going to the hairdresser, but doesn't feel like it today, just like he hasn't felt like it for the past two months or so. Looking down at the sink cabinet, he thinks for a moment. Finally, he grabs the handle and slowly opens the drawer. Looking at the headbands inside of it, he slowly grabs a bandana and considers wearing it to push his long hair back, but he can't. He gently puts it back in the drawer, making sure he doesn't move any of the others in the process.

He picks the towel up off the floor and starts drying himself off. When he's finished, he uses it to dry the shower walls and floor as well. He then walks across the hallway to the bedroom and opens the closet. After putting on a pair of black skinny jeans and a same colored t-shirt, he looks for his usual pair of Vans shoes on the floor and almost falls over trying to tie them standing. Realizing he didn't make the bed this morning, he walks over to his side, pulls the duvet back in its place and shakes the pillow a couple of times before putting it back too. Instinctively, he walks over to the other side of the bed and does the same. There's no use. Nobody has slept there in months, nor will anyone tonight. It's just a routine, just like everything else he does these days.

 

Louis is surprised to find James sitting on the couch, doing nothing, and he puts his hands on his hips when he says, “I thought you wanted to play with your music instruments.”

“I have played with them, for a very long time.” James says in a whiny voice as he jumps up, leaving a small dent in the couch. “So, what are we doing today?” He jumps up and down on his little feet, swinging his arms in the air.

“I don't know, James.” Louis looks at the mess on the floor and sighs. “You know, you could have put your instruments back in their place when you were done playing with them.” Louis grabs a wicker basket, a smaller version of the one in James' room, and walks over to the toys to put them in it. His movements are tight, almost throwing the toys.

“Daddy always wanted to play with me,” James says in a soft voice as he watches Louis from where he's standing.

“Yeah, well, that daddy isn't here to play with you anymore, is he?”

When James doesn't answer, Louis turns around to look at him, and sees that he's on the edge of bursting into tears. Louis rushes his hand through his hair as he sits down on the couch. Why does he do this? It's not James' fault that things are the way they are. Not sure if it's possible to make a three year old feel guilty, he holds out his hand. “Come here, sweetheart.”

James hesitates but grabs his daddy's hand anyway and climbs on the couch. Louis puts his arms around the boy and gently rubs his head, pressing him against his chest.

“I'm sorry,” Louis says after a while. “I know you loved playing your instruments with Daddy, and I know you miss him.” He swallows, trying to find a way to say what he wants to say in a way that such a small boy understands. “So do I, very much. And that's why it's not always easy for me to talk about him.” He pulls his son back a little so that he can look at him. “Do you understand that?”

James looks uncertain and his voice is soft when he says, “But... we can't forget Daddy.” His eyes widen a bit as he looks up at Louis, almost like he's afraid that he doesn't feel the same way, and Louis can feel his heart shatter. It's like his heart was already broken into a thousand pieces and they just multiplied to a million.

“We will never forget him.” He kisses James' forehead and hugs him again, a little tighter now. James cries for about ten minutes, and when Louis feels that he has stopped, he releases him from his hug and moves his thumbs over his cheeks to remove whatever the tears left behind.

“Why don't you go upstairs and pick something you want to wear today, and I'll go call Uncle Niall?”

Hearing Niall's name puts a smile on James' face. Niall is Louis' best friend, and he's been very involved in James' life ever since he moved here two years ago. He watches him whenever Louis needs him to, and he's that fun uncle that does all the things with him that his father might not agree with.

James nods happily and jumps off of the couch to runs towards the staircase.

“No running on your socks, bud. You might slip,” Louis says, but James is already out of his sight.

He grabs his phone and dials Niall's number as he stares at a framed picture. It rings longer than usual, and for a second Louis' afraid that he might not be available. A sigh of relief leaves his mouth when he finally answers.

“Hi mate, it's me. Can you come over to watch James today? I can't do it, man...”


	2. Two

 

Two

**· · · · ֍ · · · ·**

 

Thank you for coming over on such short notice.” Louis welcomes Niall in his house and leads the way to the kitchen. He flicks his fringe out of his eyes as he starts making coffee for the both of them.

“Any time, mate,” Niall says leaning against the counter. Louis catches him taking in the dump that he calls his kitchen, and he keeps his eyes focused on what he's doing. “Are you going out today?”

“No, I don't think so.”

Nodding, Niall turns his body in Louis' direction. “So what's wrong? You sounded a bit distraught on the phone.”

Louis sighs as he hands one of the cups to Niall and takes a sip of his own. He shrugs and replies, “I don't know how to do things with James.” Suddenly feeling exhausted, he crosses the room to the couch and sits down.

Niall is right behind him, but he holds his step when he sees James. Apparently he heard Niall's voice, because he comes running down the stairs, wearing a pair of blue jeans and a white t-shirt. Louis shouts, “What did I say about running on your socks, Jam?” but he pays no attention to him, running straight to Niall, who quickly puts his cup on the table to answer the boy's hug.

“Uncle Niall!” James exclaims. He's always loved Niall. At first he thought his Irish accent was a little weird, but after a while he got used to it, and now he finds it hilarious. His own is a mix of British and American, both in a very toddler-ish way, which everyone who's ever met him finds adorable. He may have been born in America, but most people around him speak British, and he's made his own little accent out of theirs. He also used to think it's weird that Niall dyes his brown hair blonde every few weeks, but once he got used to it, he admitted that 'it matches his blue eyes'.

“Hey buddy,” Louis says as he watches the two of them. He notices that Niall hugs him a little longer than usual, and he smiles to himself.

“Do you want to play with me?” James is so excited that he jumps from his one foot to the other, slapping his little hands on Niall's legs in the process.

“Later, okay?” Niall rushes his hand through James' mass of curls before picking up his cup and sitting down next to Louis. “Your father and I have some things we need to discuss. You can go play on the porch swing and I'll join you in a bit.”

When James runs towards the back door, Louis shouts, “Don't leave the porch, Jim Jam.” He knows he can trust James with that kind of stuff, but a parent can never be too careful. God forbid that something happens to him.

Niall takes a sip from his coffee and leans back in the couch to look at Louis. “So what do you mean, you don't know how to do things with James? I thought you were doing better.”

“I thought so too,” Louis says, drawing figures in the off- white suede with his fingertip. 'But James has been talking about Harry a lot today and for some reason I can't deal with it. I keep snapping at him, getting mad about nothing. He's three years old, he doesn't deserve that.” Louis' eyebrows furrow as he looks down at his hand so that he doesn't have to look at Niall.

“Have you visited Harry with James yet?” Niall asks a little suspicious, as if he already knows the answer but he wants to hear it from him.

“No.” Louis briefly looks up at Niall but then looks down again, trying to escape his questioning gaze.

“Have you been visiting Harry by yourself, then?”

Louis waits to answer his question but eventually admits in a soft voice that he hasn't. He still can't look at his friend sitting right beside him, ashamed of his own behavior.

Niall takes another sip of his coffee and sighs. “How long has it been?”

“I don't know, a little over a month, I guess.”

After thinking about this for a minute, Niall clears his throat and carefully suggests, “Why don't you ask Liam and Zayn to come over some time? They could –”

“Wait, what?” Louis interrupts him, finally looking Niall in the eye again. They haven't mentioned them in forever, and Louis hasn't talked to either of them in even longer. “What good would that do?”

“Well, they're your friends,” Niall says simply shrugging.

“My friends? I haven't seen them in years.”

“I know, but –”

“No buts.” The volume of Louis' speaking rises with each word. 'They haven't even visited us since the accident. If they really were our friends, they would be here.” He feels just like he did this morning when he snapped at James – he doesn't want to do it, but he can't stop himself, either.

“Louis, you're the ones who decided to leave the band.” Niall throws his hands in the air and shakes his head. “And you're the ones who decided to move to LA. You can't expect them to change their lives for you. That's unfair, man.”

Niall tries to put his hand on Louis' shoulder, but Louis jumps up and takes a step back from him. “That's unfair? You want to talk about unfair?” Louis can feel his eyes burning with anger – maybe not even so much anger, but more sadness that's built up over the past months. “What is unfair is that they are only a plane ride away and I am stuck in this house with a child that I can't lo–” Rubbing his eyes, he suddenly stops speaking, shocked by his own words. He knows he doesn't mean them, he loves James dearly. It's just so goddamn hard to.

“Lou...”

“Don't call me that,” Louis says and firmly points his finger at Niall.

Niall puts his hand around Louis' and takes it down. He pulls his arm gently to make him sit down on the couch and Louis finally allows Niall to put an arm around his shoulders, and they sit like that for a while.

“Louis,” Niall finally begins. The words leave his mouth slowly when he says, “No one thinks you don't love your son, everyone knows you do. And you can't blame James for what happened to Harry. Or yourself, because I know you do.”

Louis faces Niall with the saddest look on his face, and he clears his throat. Shaking his head as he lets it hang down, he says, “It's not that simple. If I hadn't tried to save James, I could have saved Harry.”

“Then you would be sitting here feeling sorry about James.” Niall shrugs as if it's obvious, and it actually is. “You simply couldn't save both.”

“But what about William?” Louis asks, but Niall doesn't have an answer to that. Louis looks up to the ceiling and takes a few breaths before speaking again. “I can't look at James without seeing William too.” He inhales deeply. “They were Harry's, Ni. William had his hair and his eyes, and James still does and I can't look at him.”

“They are yours too,” Niall presses. “'Maybe not biologically, but in every other way possible.” Louis shuts his eyes but doesn't speak. “I know how hard it's all been for you –”

Louis frees himself from Niall's arm and blinks at him. “You know how hard it's been?” he shouts narrowing his eyes.

“Yes, I've been here all along,” Niall shouts back.

They've had this discussion so many times before and Louis isn't sure he's up to it today but again he can't stop. He just can't stop his emotions from taking over.

“I know you mean well, Niall.” Louis' voice is softer now, but there's a sarcastic undertone. “But you can't possibly know how hard it's been. We weren't supposed to be in love.” Niall looks at his hands now, knowing where this is going. “Everyone around us tried to stop us from being together. Even you, Ni.” They look each other in the eye and Louis shakes his head, the movement almost to small to see. “I know that you were trying to help us, but you must have known that you couldn't keep us apart. We finally had everything and then the accident happened.”

“Have you cried lately?” Niall finally asks in an obvious attempt to end the argument.

“No, what's the use?”

“I don't know, it just doesn't seem right to keep everything inside.” When Louis doesn't answer, Niall adds, “You have to hold on to hope.”

“There is no hope,” Louis says firmly, shaking his head.

“Yes, there is.” Straightening himself, Niall looks Louis in the eye, trying to get through to him. “You had it once. I don't know how or when you lost it.” He waits before continuing, almost as if he needs to find the courage to say what he says next. “It's like you've given up.”

“How could you say that?” Louis looks almost betrayed. He's fought every day for his family. It's not like he hasn't cried because he doesn't have to, but because he doesn't want to. He hasn't given up.

“How could you not see it?” Niall asks, the volume of his speaking rising again, but this time it's more desperate than angry. “You were so positive. You visited Harry every day and told everyone everything was going to be all right. It's like one day you woke up and decided not to do that anymore.” Louis looks away but Niall keeps staring at him. “When your positivity started to disappear, we stayed up night after night crying together. And now you're telling me you don't even cry anymore?” Niall rushes his hand through his blonde hair and exhales sharply. “You owe it to Harry to be sad, Louis. And you also owe it to Harry to be strong, to be a good father for his child. He is the love of your life.”

“I don't need you to tell me how much I love Harry.” Louis' voice is soft now, broken, as he looks back at Niall. “Loving him is all I do. Thinking about him is all I do.” Looking down at his wedding band, he moves it up and down his finger. He can't imagine it not being there, it's almost like he's had it since the day he was born.

“I know you do,' Niall says nodding his head up and down. “But you've got to think about James too. He is too young to understand any of this and you've been acting like Harry is dead. You've taken his father from him.”

“No, the fire took his father from him,” Louis looks up at Niall again. “How is visiting Harry in the hospital going to help either one of us, hm?” When Niall stays silent, Louis says, “I know that Harry is still alive. I don't need to see him lying in a hospital bed to remind myself.”

“Maybe you need to remind James. I can take him, if you want me to.”

Ignoring his offer, Louis rubs his eyes tiredly and asks, “Have you been visiting him?”

“I have,” Niall says. “He's looking better, mate. His color is back, his hair is fuller. It's been five months.”

“I know how long it's been,” Louis sighs.

“Have you been in William's room at all?” Niall asks carefully.

“I can't go in there, Niall,” Louis looks at him and his lower lip starts to tremble. “I remember every detail, his little crib... His favorite bear isn't there because he was carrying it the day of the fire. His little clothes in the closet... I see it all the time, I just can't face it.” Louis wipes a tear from his eye.

“Hey, a tear,” Niall smiles as he rubs Louis' knee, trying to comfort him. “Don't be so hard on yourself, Louis. Everyone understands your tears. You're the only one who doesn't seem to.”

Suddenly, James is back in the room and asks, “Daddy, Uncle Niall, will you please go to the beach with me?”

“Actually,” Niall replies before Louis can. “What do you say I take you to the park?” He opens his mouth and widens his eyes as if he just revealed a huge surprise to James.

“Yes!” the boy cheers as he climbs on top of his father's lap. “Are you coming too?”

Louis sighs and leans his head back while he tickles his son's tummy. “Yeah sure, buddy.”

Giggling out loud, James kicks his little feet and swings his little arms trying to escape from Louis' grasp. Allowing himself to laugh, Louis scoops him up and rises from the couch, James pressed against Louis' chest as they walk to the hall.

“Which hoodie do you want to wear, Jay?”

James pouts his lips a little at his father. “I don't want to wear a hoodie.”

“Well, you won't have to wear it the entire time, but we have to bring one in case you get cold.”

Because James keeps pouting, Louis picks the blue one and puts it on him. He's still not too keen on the idea of wearing a hoodie, but he accepts his fate. James doesn't really understand the weather yet, it's sunny outside, so he assumes it's hot. Harry used to play a game with him trying to explain it, where he would be the wind and James would be the sun. Whenever they played it, James seemed to understand that they could both be present at the same time, but he would forget the next day.

Louis takes James' Vans out of the shoe cabinet and squats down to put them on, but James shakes his head. “I want Uncle Niall to put my shoes on.” He beams as he says the words and looks up at Niall, who isn't really his uncle, but what does he know.

“I can do that.” Niall jumps forward as if he's coming to the rescue, and he winks at Louis when he laughs.

 

With James' hoodie and shoes on, they make their way down the street to the park. The boy is between the two, swinging from their hands.

“Please be careful, James. There are people walking behind us,” Louis says looking down at his son. “Kicking your paps in the balls from time to time is one thing, but you can't do that to strangers.”

James laughs as if it's the most hilarious thing ever, causing Niall to laugh as well. “Honestly, Tommo,” he says in between laughs. “Why did you call me? You seem to be doing fine with him.”

Louis shrugs as he keeps watching James jumping up and down beside him. “I know it seems that way, but it's really overwhelming from time to time.” He sees Niall nodding in the corner of his eye. “He was looking at Harry's picture this morning–”

“Harry!” James suddenly squeals. “Can we go see him, Daddy?”

Looking at Niall with an expression that reads 'see what I mean?', Louis says, “Remind me not to say his name around him.” He now directs his gaze back at James. “No, James, I already told you. We're going to the park, that's fun too, right?”

James smiles as if he's already forgotten what he just suggested and starts swinging again, his weight starting to become heavy on their wrists.

“You can't just not mention him, Louis. Of course he's going to ask about him sometimes, you can't blame him.”

Nodding faintly, Louis decides to close the subject. “So how's everything going with you?”

“James, my hand's about to fall off,” Niall says as he lets go off the boy before turning to Louis. “Everything's fine, the usual. I've actually been looking for a job. Not that I need the money, obviously, but it's just to make myself useful.”

Louis watches carefully as James runs off to pick something up off the sidewalk. “Jim, that's filthy.” Making sure he puts it down, Louis waits before answering Niall. “Yeah? How's that working out?”

“Nah, not too well. I usually get the 'Are you the real Niall Horan?', and then I give up. I don't need that, you know. It's in the past.”

“Tell me about it.” Louis frowns at the memory of all the times people have asked him the same thing. It's nice to have a past of being famous in some situations, but looking for a job certainly isn't one of them. Louis was only twenty five years old – and Harry even younger – when they moved to LA. They thought they'd try to build a normal life together, start over away from the fame, but quickly realized they could never have a normal life again. They started the procedure to have children only a year after they made the move, and the twins were born three years later, so they've had their hands full on that. Louis hasn't even thought about getting a job in so long. He realizes how blessed they are to have enough money to not have to worry about ever working again, and how much easier it has made their life, even though other aspects have made it so hard.

They turn the corner to enter the park, and find a bench beneath a tree to sit down. James comes running back a bit towards his father and asks as politely as he can, “Is it okay if I go play with the other kids?” He smiles sweetly at Louis and points his finger to the children playing in a sandpit.

“Go ahead, we'll be right here.”

James quickly takes off his hoodie and throws it on his dad's lap. Louis and Niall watch him as he makes contact with the other kids and squats down in the sand. James doesn't have much friends his own age, because his parents don't really have friends with kids, but he's never been fussy about playing with strangers. At his age it's all the same, Louis guesses.

The two of them make a bit of small talk while they enjoy the sun and watch people stroll by. Louis neatly folds the hoodie on his lap and rests his hands on it, the fabric soft beneath his skin.

“Please don't interrupt me again, I have been thinking about this a lot lately,” Niall suddenly starts. “I honestly believe it would be a good idea to have Zayn and Liam come over. We haven't been together as a group in so long, and they don't even really know what happened to Harry, all they know is that he had an accident. And maybe you could finally explain to them why you guys left England so suddenly. Besides, the two of you have pretty much isolated yourselves from the rest of the world ever since you moved here. Don't get me wrong, I understand, with the twins and all. I was just thinking that maybe it's time to start letting people in again.”

Louis lets his head hang down, watching his hands play with James' sweater. “I don't know, Ni. I'm not sure they like us so much anymore.”

“Are you kidding me?” Turning his body away from the playground and towards Louis, Niall smiles kindly. “We used to be like brothers, that hasn't changed. I don't talk to them much anymore either, but I still love them and I know that I can still count on them, and so can you.”

“Yeah, but they have their families...” Louis says absently.

“Stop looking for excuses, Tommo. I'm sure they can come to LA for a week or so. Just promise me you'll think about it.” Niall wipes his hands on his jeans as he stands up to walk over to James.

Louis watches them playing with some toys James found in the sand. He seems to be delighted that Niall came over to play with him, and Louis feels a surge of guilt. Shouldn't he be the one playing with his son? It's things like this that he never used to worry about. James loves Niall and Niall loves James, so why shouldn't they play together? These days he worries about everything that has anything to do with James. Maybe that's why he gets so worked up when Niall tells him how he should handle things with James and Harry, because he knows that he's in the wrong, but he doesn't know how to change it. Or well, he knows how to change it, he just don't have the strength to.

Leaning back, he closes his eyes and sees Harry. He imagines him playing with James instead of Niall, carrying William with one arm and using the other to wave at Louis. For the first time in what feels like an eternity, Louis allows himself to cry and he feels a tear running down his cheekbone into his ear. He rubs it because it tickles, and then wipes the traces off his face. To his surprise, it's a relief to finally cry again, which is strange since he's in public. For the past weeks, he thought that maybe if he didn't allow the sadness to take him over, it would eventually leave him alone.

After a while he opens his eyes because he hears James' happy voice approaching, followed by Niall's laughter.

“This monster wants to eat ice cream,” the latter says, his accent loud and clear as he scoops James up off the ground tickling his tummy.

Louis stands up and brushes some sand out of James' hair with his fingers. “Well, let's go, then.”

 

**· · · · · · · ·**

 

It's at night when the loneliness is the worst. James is all tucked in and most likely asleep by now, and Louis is watching a bit of TV on the couch. He's curled up into a ball and sips from his red wine as he changes the channel for the millionth time. It's not like he used to do anything special with Harry on ordinary nights like these, it's just that they did nothing special _together_. Louis misses sitting between his legs, Harry's long arms circled around his chest. At least they could laugh together about whatever shit show they would be watching. Everything is less fun without him.

With a sigh he turns off the television, and the living room is left a little darker. Switching on the reading lamp standing behind him with his left hand, he grabs the newspaper with his right. He's made it halfway down a piece about global warming when his phone buzzes on the glass table in front of him. Leaning forward he reaches to see that it's a text from Niall.

 

Niall: And?

 

Louis smiles and exhales at the same time. He had to promise Niall that he would consider his suggestion to invite Liam and Zayn before he dropped him and James off at their beach house, and Louis' kept his promise, but he's still not sure. It's true that they used to be like brothers to him, but that's just it: they used to be. But then again, it's also true that he can't keep isolating himself like this. To be honest, Niall is his only friend these days. He talks to his neighbors when he runs into them on the street, but the conversations don't go much deeper than the obligatory how are you's. Besides, he gets tired of their compassionate looks. What happened to his family is terrible, but he doesn't need to be reminded every second of every day by people he barely knows.

He sighs as he pulls his phone closer and types his reply, the tips of his nails making soft noises as they hit the screen.

 

Louis: Okay, do it.

Niall: Good, because I've already spoken to them and they'll be here the day after tomorrow.

 

He grins and shakes his head. He could have known.

 

Louis: Bastard. How long are they staying?

Niall: Thanks, man. Not sure, however long you need them to.

 

With a satisfied smile on his face, Louis pushes the paper aside and turns the television back on. Taking another sip of his wine, he thinks that maybe this wasn't such a bad idea after all.


	3. Three

 

 

Three

**· · · · ֍ · · · ·**

 

Two days later, Louis and Niall find themselves at LAX waiting for their old mates to arrive. James is standing right next to Louis and is holding his daddy's hand, trying to find them in the crowd. He's been excited about seeing them ever since Louis told them they were coming, and Louis' showed him all kinds of photographs and videos that they're in. From his eighteenth to his twenty fifth, he was never away from them for more than a week, so there are lots of memories to share.

“Are they here yet?” James asks as he jumps up and down beside his father.

“I don't know, buddy. They should be here soon.” Louis lets go of James' hand and picks him up so that he can see what is happening around them.

The airport is crowded with people and it's hard to see who's arriving and who's just waiting. Louis feels a bit nervous, because he hasn't seen Liam and Zayn since his and Harry's wedding five years ago. It's weird to think how they used to spend every waking hour together and now he hasn't seen them in so long. He wonders if the vibe will be different, or that they will go straight back to how they always used to be.

Niall isn't worried, though, he told Louis on the way here. For some reason he still feels the same connection he did back in the day. It hasn't been as long since he's last seen them as it has for Louis. Niall moved to LA just two years ago and before that, he used to visit Liam and Zayn once every two weeks. He still talks to them via texts sometimes, but Louis just stopped contacting them at some point.

“Are you nervous to meet your uncles, Jamie?” Niall rubs his little shoulder, his eyes fixed on the sliding doors opening and closing in front of them.

“No, I'm sure they'll be fun.” James shrugs. “They're your friends and I like you both a lot.”

Louis and Niall smile at each other. Maybe James is right and Louis shouldn't give it so much thought. They are his friends, or at least they used to be. What's the worst that could happen? Well, what's definitely going to happen is that he's going to have to tell them all about the night of the fire, and everything that happened long before that. At least with Niall, he knows everything there is to know about their life.

“Is that them?”

Louis looks in the direction where Niall is pointing and is surprised by what he sees. Liam and Zayn still look the same – they look a bit older, of course, but apart from that, they don't look much different. Zayn is still incredibly handsome, with his black hair in a high quiff. His beard is a few days old, but knowing Zayn, that's on purpose, unlike Louis'. He's wearing a black t-shirt with the yellow Batman logo on it that Louis swears he's seen before, the short sleeves allowing his tattoos to be seen. Louis sees that he's added a few, but he can't tell what they are from this distance. Zayn's wearing black jeans with equally black leather boots, and his backpack is casually hanging from his shoulder.

Liam laughs and points at Niall and Louis when he spots them. He too doesn't look much different in his dark gray hoodie, with the hood on his head. His blue jeans are a little wider than Zayn's skinny ones, and his brown Timberland boots still look the same as the ones he used to wear during their time as a band.

Seeing them like this – seeing that so little has changed, Louis feels like not a day has passed, and he smiles to himself.

“There they are.” He points to his old friends and puts James on the floor, who immediately runs over to them with his little backpack bouncing on his back.

Liam picks him up and says something to him that Louis can't hear from where he's standing, but apparently it's funny, because James laughs about it.

“I guess this one is yours?” Liam says to Louis as he approaches him. Louis simply nods and smiles. He's pretty much at a loss for words.

'How old are you now? You look like a man!” Liam pinches James' belly, and laughs when James puts three fingers in the air with a proud look on his face.

Zayn is suddenly beside Louis, and says, “He looks so much like Harry...” He seems to be shocked by the sight of James, and Louis nods again as he clears his throat. Liam smiles faintly as he hands James over to Louis, like he didn't see the resemblance before Zayn mentioned it.

“Welcome, lads. Well, how was your flight?” Niall asks in an attempt to brighten the mood.

Louis bounces James up and down on his hip as he tries to distract himself and forces a smile. Everything just feels so weird all of a sudden. The last time they all saw each other, he had Harry by his side instead of a three year old on his hip, and it makes him realize once again how much has changed since then.

“Oh, you know how it is,” Liam says lightly. “It was long, but it was okay. We had some time to catch up.”

“Yeah, it was okay,” Zayn agrees, but he still hasn't taken his eyes off of James. Louis reckons he's mostly looking at his brown curls, or maybe his green eyes – the same ones Harry was so famous for back in the day.

“Do you see that, James?” Louis says pointing to Zayn's t-shirt.

“Yes, Batman!” His little voice echoes enthusiasm, but also shyness. Meeting kids he doesn't know isn't a problem at all, but grownups are a whole different story. Yet he smiles when Zayn bumps his tiny fist with his own as a response.

“I see you still dye your hair blonde,” Liam teases while laughing at Niall.

“Ha-ha, yes, I do,” Niall says sarcastically. “Why don't you go get your luggage and we'll meet you at the exit door,” Niall suggests, and he smiles at both Liam and Zayn. As a response, they simply nod and turn around to go gather their belongings.

Louis catches Zayn looking back over his shoulder once, and he inhales deeply before kissing James on his forehead.

“I guess it's not easy for them to see James,” Niall says, watching the boy in Louis' arms. “We have witnessed James growing up, gradually looking more and more like his father. The resemblance must be a shock for them.”

Nodding, Louis says, “It still shocks me every time I look at him,” and he does exactly that. “How was that, little man? Do you like them?”

James moves his head up and down slowly and smiles. “Batman.”

“You're tired, aren't you?”

James nods again before he rests his head against Louis' shoulder, and his voice is filled with sleep. “Nap time.”

Louis checks his watch to see that his son is right, so he presses his lips against the top of James' head and leaves them there. “Alright, boy. Let's get you home.”

 

**· · · · · · · ·**

 

“So, this is the infamous beach house,” Liam says as he steps into the hallway and drops his luggage on the floor. He takes a step further inside to check the place out, with Zayn right behind him.

“This is it.” Louis whispers trying not to wake up James, who is asleep in his arms. The second Louis put him in his car seat, he was out. “Why don't you make yourselves at home while I tuck this boy in?”

Niall softly kisses the top of James' head before Louis turns around to head up the stairs. James squirms a bit in his arms as he does so, and he makes soft humming noises.

Softly rubbing his back, Louis asks, “What is it?”

“Don't want to sleep.” His words are not more than murmurs against his father's shoulder, but Louis can hear tears through them. “Want to have fun.”

When they're finally in James' room, Louis sits down on his bed and places him on his lap. Still gently rubbing his back with one hand, he wipes away his tears with the other, and rocks back and forth too soothe him. He knows that he's just crying because he's tired and trying hard to stay awake, but it still saddens him. He'd rather take him back downstairs, but that won't

help either one of them right now.

“I know, sweetie,” Louis says eventually, his lips pressed against James' skull before he pulls him back a bit and smiles. “But do you know the good part?” James sadly shakes his head. “They will still be here when you wake up again and then you can have lots of fun with them.”

Thinking about this for a while, James seems to feel a little better. Still not sure of the situation he looks up at Louis and asks, “Will they go to the beach with me?”

“If you ask them nicely I'm sure they will.”

That seems to do it, and James gives Louis a wet peck on his cheek before he climbs off of his lap and waddles over to his closet. He returns to his father with a set of pajamas in his little hands, dropping it on Louis' lap.

“Yeah, you want to wear these?” Louis questions as he starts unfolding the set, and he smiles when he sees which one he picked.

James nods enthusiastically. “Batman.”

 

“Well, Zayn, it seems you've gained a fan.”

When Louis crosses the living room, he finds his old friends in his kitchen, leaning against the counter drinking beer from the bottle.

“Yeah?” Zayn says in between sips. “How's that?”

Louis watches Niall as he grabs a beer for himself before he answers Zayn. “What, thought you could just raid my fridge?” After Niall says, “Yes, actually,” Louis rolls his eyes and turns to back Zayn. “My fabulous son is currently sleeping in his Batman pj's, that he just had to wear today.”

Zayn smiles as if accepting a compliment, and he says, “He seems awesome, Louis. By the way, this place is beautiful.”

They all look around a bit and Louis is glad that the kitchen is back to its former beauty. Niall came over the day before to help him clean up the mess, and now that it's gone, all they see is the spacious kitchen that it really is. There's an island standing in the middle of the room with a huge fruit basket on top of it, and there are off-white cabinets hanging from all walls.

“Yeah, it's really nice,” Liam agrees.

“Thank you.” Louis takes a sip of his beer and looks around as well. “I think it's pretty obvious that Harry picked most of the furniture and decorations.” He smiles at the memory of Harry going to tens of stores to see what options they had. He wanted their house to be perfect, and it is.

“I'm glad you said it yourself. I guess Harry did all the cooking as well?” Liam runs a finger over the chrome cooker in admiration.

“Yeah, but James hasn't complained once about my cooking since –” Louis stops talking and clears his throat swallowing the rest of his words. “Do you want to see upstairs, see where you're sleeping? You could take a shower, change your clothes, whatever you want to do.”

Fortunately, everybody decides to ignore what Louis was about to say, except from an obvious look from Niall directed at him that he chooses to ignore in his turn. Liam and Zayn simply nod and put down their beer bottles before they follow him upstairs. Because he's seen the house countless of times, Louis is surprised to see Niall following them too.

Catching his questioning gaze the Irishman clears up, “I'm going to check on James.”

They walk past a few photographs hanging on the wall that Liam and Zayn discuss, but Louis doesn't even glance at them. Maybe it's because he's used to them being there, or maybe because it's too hard to see them. There are pictures of Louis and Harry together, and either one or both of them with the twins. His friends talk about how looking at Harry makes them sad, but Louis just leads the way in silence.

“Here's the master bedroom and bathroom,” Louis says as he opens the door to his and Harry's room. He leans against the closet as Liam and Zayn walk past him to look around. “This is where all the magic happens,” he says as a joke, and immediately wishes he hadn't. Liam gives him a sympathetic look, but they don't say anything back, thank God.

“I see you haven't reorganized Harry's stuff,” Zayn says as he gently caresses the notebook sitting on the nightstand.

Louis shakes his head as he watches them move through the room. “I haven't. Moving them seems too definitive.”

He waits until Liam and Zayn walk out to close the door, and they move further down the hallway to stop at the closed door

next to his.

“This is...” Louis clears his throat before continuing. “This was William's room.” No one says anything about it, so Louis moves along to James' room. He forgot about Niall being there, and he's startled by the sight of him sitting on the side of James' bed when he opens the door.

Niall quickly wipes away a tear before he turns around, holding James' tiny hand in his. He smiles softly in their direction, but his eyes show nothing but sadness.

“Sorry, Ni,” Louis says quietly. Turning back to Liam and Zayn, he says, “As you can see, this is where Jamie sleeps.”

“I see he keeps a picture of Harry next to his bed,” Liam whispers. Not knowing how to respond, Louis simply nods, trying not to look at the photograph. He smiles in gratitude when Zayn changes the subject by saying, “So, where do we sleep?”

They walk upstairs to the top floor. There's a room where they keep the washing machine and such, and a little bathroom, but the rest of the floor is open. There are two king size beds, two wardrobes and a sink. Because most of their family lives abroad, they needed a big spare room, and since they only use the rooms on the second floor, they had the third made into one.

Waiting until Liam and Zayn have put their luggage down, Louis just looks out the window to see the waves flooding the beach until Zayn's voice breaks the silence.

“Are you okay, mate?” he asks.

Louis turns around and wipes his fringe out of his eyes. “Yeah, everything's fine. Are you good here? You can use that bathroom over there. It's not big, but it has everything you need, so.” Suddenly feeling a bit uncomfortable, Louis sticks his hands in his pockets and fidgets with the insides.

“Seems comfortable enough.” Liam smiles, and Louis sees that it's a sympathetic one again, almost apologetic, so he looks past him to escape his gaze.

Suddenly standing in front of him, Zayn puts both his hands on Louis' shoulders, squeezing them softly. “You're okay with us being here, yeah?”

“I am.” Louis nods quickly. “I'm just a little overwhelmed, that's all.”

Zayn hugs him shortly as Liam says, “We know, mate. Just go check on Niall, he seemed a bit emotional as well. We'll be fine.”

 

Not sure if he's still in there, Louis softly knocks on James' bedroom door. Instead of Niall's, it's his son's voice that tells him to come in, so he slips inside and flicks on a lamp.

“Hey buddy, that was a short nap. Did something wake you up?”

Louis sits down on James' bed and kisses the side of his head before hugging him gently, and he feels him nod against his chest.

“Uncle Niall was crying,” James says a bit shocked.

Rubbing his back, Louis' not sure how to reply to that, but he figures he should just go with the truth. James might be young, but he's not stupid. He knows when something's up, and he won't let you fool him easily.

“Yeah, I noticed that. Did he say anything to you?”

“No.” James shakes his head and his brows furrow deeply while his lips are slightly parted – his thinking face. “I think he noticed that I was awake and he gave me a kiss and left.”

Louis nods slowly and lies down beside his son. The bed's kind of small, but they make it fit. “James, you know that I get sad sometimes, right?”

“Yes.” James' little voice is soft and filled with sorrow.

“That's because I miss your brother and daddy so much, and I think that that is why Uncle Niall was sad too. You know how much he loves you, yeah?”

“Yes,” James repeats.

“He loved William just as much, so it's hard for him to not have him around anymore, just like it's hard for us.” Really hoping he's explaining it right for a three year old to understand, Louis puts an arm around him and starts playing with his curls and tangling them around his fingers.

James does his thinking face again, and eventually says, “But he has his friends now, shouldn't that make him happy?”

“I'm sure he's very happy to have them here, but back when Uncle Niall and I used to see Liam and Zayn a lot, your daddy was always there as well, so they make us miss him a little too, even though we're happy to see them.”

“Leeyum,” James tries, tasting the name to see if he likes it. Louis laughs and shows him how to pronounce it correctly. After trying a couple of times, James finally says it right and his lips form a satisfied smile.

“Yes, good boy.” Louis kisses the side of his son's head again. “And Zayn, can you say that?”

James shakes his head giggling and points to the yellow logo on his chest. “Batman.”

 

**· · · · · · · ·**

 

Refusing to take it off, James is still wearing his pajamas as he plays on the swing while Louis and Niall are drinking a glass of wine on the lounge set on the porch. The sun is starting to set, and therefore turning its light into a deep shade of orange. Louis puts on his Ray Ban aviators while he watches his son swing back and forth, going a little higher each time.

“What are we eating tonight, Daddy?” James shouts from his spot at the end of the porch.

“I was thinking we could fire up the grill,” Niall says before Louis can speak – probably because James loves it, and Niall knows that Louis hasn't made the effort in a long time. To him, there wasn't much use to, since James eats so little meat compared to the time it takes Louis to prepare it.

Jumping off of the swing and running over to his father, James shouts, “Yeah, can we do that, Daddy?” He jumps up and down in front of Louis, pushing himself up on his knees. As soon as Louis says that they can, he says, “Sweet!” and he's back on the swing in the blink of an eye.

“He seems awfully happy,” Niall notices after taking a sip of his wine.

“I guess he's just glad he's not alone with me anymore.” Louis readjusts his sunglasses before taking a sip as well. “I haven't been very nice to him lately.” Niall nods but doesn't respond, so Louis asks, “Were you okay earlier? I noticed you were crying.”

Nervously shifting in his seat, Niall quietly says, “Yeah. Did James notice, though?”

“He did, actually. He was a little shocked at first, but I tried to explain it to him, and I guess it doesn't bother him anymore. You know how kids are.” They sip from their wines in silence for a while before Louis tries to pick up the conversation again. He doesn't want to push Niall, but he also wants to know what's wrong. “So, what were you crying about?”

“I guess I just...” Niall sighs, rushes his hand through his hair, and keeps it there. “Just sitting there made me think of the times I put both of them to bed, you know? And then I realized that it should be Harry sitting at his bedside, and now with Liam and Zayn here, I just...”

Niall puts his glass down beside his chair on the wooden floor, and places his elbows on his thighs to rub his hands down his face. Leaving him be at first, Louis eventually puts down his own glass as well and leans to the side to put an arm around his friend's shoulders, stroking the right one.

“I know what you're saying,” Louis starts. “But you've been in James' life for a very long time. It's not the first time you've sat at his bedside, nor will it be the last. You mean the world to James, you know that. Don't feel guilty, or whatever it is you feel, towards Harry.”

Niall nods and places his hand on Louis', squeezing it shortly. “I just miss him – them. I miss them.”

“I know.”

Louis stays clear of the usual 'me too' on purpose. Whenever people are sad about what happened, and Louis says he is too, they always end up apologizing. It doesn't make sense to him – of course, he's William's father and Harry's husband, so his grief is worse, or at least different, but that doesn't mean that they don't feel it as well, in their own way. So he doesn't say it to Niall now to allow him to be sad, to feel sorry for himself for a while instead of Louis. He knows that Niall often keeps his own hurt inside to make it somewhat easier for Louis, or at least not harder, but Louis doesn't want him to. They sit there together for quite some time, watching the sun setting behind James, Louis' arm wrapped around Niall and their hands tied together, but it's Liam who breaks the silence.

“So, what's the plan?” he says as he emerges from the house, wearing a white vest, dark blue shorts, white flip flops and the same type of sunglasses as Louis. Casually leaning against the doorpost, he looks out at the beach.

“We were just talking about firing up the grill,” Louis answers pointing to James, telling Liam who was the reason behind the plan.

Nodding and smiling in understanding, Liam says, “Sounds good. Do we have to go get some meat?”

“You know what, Niall and I know the way around here. Why don't you get yourself a nice glass of wine and make yourself comfortable and we go to the supermarket,” Louis offers. It's true that they know the way around, of course, but it's also a good reason to slip out for a little while.

“Trying to postpone the interrogation?” Niall whispers as they stand up, and Louis' only response is a slight nodding.

“Is it okay if I leave James here?” he asks Liam instead. “We can take him if you want us to, but if it's not a problem...”

“No, no, of course not!” Liam makes his way to the swing and asks James, “Is it okay if I watch you for a while?”

Stopping the swing at once, James' voice is thoughtful when he asks, “Will Batman be here too?”

Not sure what he means, Liam looks to Louis for help, who laughs. “That's Zayn,” he clarifies.

“Oh, of course. Yes, he's upstairs and he'll be down any second now.”

“Then yes.” James starts swinging again without giving Liam another look. The latter pulls a face at Louis, who laughs again and says, “Sorry, mate. We'll have to get you a Superman cape or something, otherwise you'll forever be the boring uncle.”

“Nice kid you have, Tommo!” Liam shouts after his old band mates as they make their way through the house to the front door.

“I know!”

**· · · · · · · ·**

 

Palm trees go by outside their windows as they drive to the supermarket. The volume of the radio blasting is high enough for them not to have a conversation, but Louis can feel Niall's burning gaze on the side of his face.

“This is a nice song,” Louis says as he switches lanes. When Niall sighs and looks out the window, he believes for a second that he's going to let it rest, and he relaxes a bit.

In an attempt to keep the mood light, Louis asks, “Do you ever think of making music again? Maybe a solo career or writing for other artists.”

“Not really,” Niall answers. “I mean, the other day I came across our albums and I put the sixth one on. That made me miss it a bit, but it's more being together as a band than making music, you know?”

Louis nods, because he knows exactly what he means. It took him quite some time to get used to a normal life – not being with his four best mates all the time, living in an actual house instead of a tour bus, things like that. During their time in the band, Louis wrote lots and lots of songs. At some point his mind just did it without realizing it, so he'd always keep a notepad with him, or at least his phone, because lyrics just seemed to pop up out of nowhere. For the first year after it all ended, lyrics kept coming, but there was no use for them. He wrote them down anyway, just in case.

“Well, lots of groups have made comebacks in the past. Who knows, maybe it will be us someday.”

He immediately regrets that one, because they can't make a comeback as long as Harry's not up and running. _Nice job at_ _steering_ _clear of that subject, Tommo_ , he thinks to himself. The red light he was waiting at finally turns to green, and he turns left.

“Do Liam and Zayn miss it?”

Niall shrugs. “Not that I know of, no.”

So that's that. Louis is glad that Niall just focuses on the world outside for the rest of the ride, because he doesn't feel like getting into the discussion that seems to be inevitable. They wave at some people on the parking lot who seem to recognize them, and they grab a shopping cart before they head inside.

“You know you're going to have to talk to them soon,” Niall says as they make a right for the second aisle.

Louis ignores his statement and instead reads the shopping list they made on their way here. “Can you grab some vegetables? I think we need –”

“Louis, look at me.” Pausing his step, Niall grabs Louis' shoulder to turn him around. Looking straight at him, he says,

“You owe them some answers.”

“I don't owe them anything.” Louis shakes Niall's hand off his shoulder and starts walking again, pushing the cart along. Niall interrupts him again when he says, “So, can you just grab –“

“They came all this way for you. They are here to help you,” Niall hisses as he rushes to keep up with Louis' pace.

“I don't need any help,” Louis hisses back as he stands still to throw some peppers in the cart. Looking up at his friend beside him, he adds, “I don't need your help, either, but I realize that I owe you some answers, not them.”

Shrugging Niall shakes his head as if what Louis' saying doesn't make sense at all. “I don't need any answers, I've been here while it was all happening.”

“Fine, then I don't owe anyone any answers,” Louis says firmly as he starts pushing the cart again. See? He knew this was going to happen the minute they were alone, and he wonders why he didn't just ask Liam to come to the store with him when he offered to.

“Okay, and what about James?” Niall tries as he adds some things to the cart.

Pausing his step again, Louis rubs his hand down his face, followed by a flick to keep his fringe out of his eyes. “Can you just not drag him into every argument we have these days?”

“We're not arguing,” Niall says.

“We are totally arguing.”

“Fine, I give up, but be prepared to have this talk with Liam and Zayn when we get home.” Niall grabs the shopping list from Louis' hand and starts collecting the remaining items while Louis follows him with the cart in silence.


	4. Four

 

Four

**· · · · ֍ · · · ·**

 

After they have dinner, Louis puts the plates in the dishwasher and he sighs. He's managed to keep the topic on Liam and Zayn so far, and he's relieved. For a minute he thought Niall was going to drag him after their discussion at the supermarket, but he's kept quiet.

Apparently Liam is still married to his longtime love Sophia, and he showed Louis pictures of their daughter, Melissa. She's two months younger than James, so they reckon the kids would get along. They live in London, just like Zayn, but he's still unmarried and childless. His girlfriend, Perrie, is busy with the reunion tour of her girl group Little Mix. They too were already together back when they used to be in the band, and it astonishes Louis that they're all still with the same people. Zayn even said he might propose to her as soon as she returns.

Niall made a joke about him still being single, but Louis knows how hard that actually is for him. He's had on and off relationships in the past, but he hasn't been on a date in months. He realizes it's selfish, but Louis is quite happy his friend is single. He tries to avoid seeing couples in public, but refusing to see Niall with a girl would be rude.

As Louis puts another plate in the dishwasher, he takes a moment to realize how little and how much has changed at the same time: during their time as a band, Liam was already dating Sophia, Zayn was dating Perrie, and Niall was single. The painful truth is that the only difference is that Louis was with Harry.

The plate slips through Louis' fingers as he looks at his wedding band. “Dammit,” he murmurs.

“You alright, mate?” Liam comes walking through the kitchen door to check on him, and Louis looks up quickly before crouching down to clean the mess.

“Yeah, fine.”

Liam says, “Thanks again for having us,” and Louis thinks it might be the tenth time he's said that since they've been here, so he just smiles at him and nods.

“Actually,” Liam says. “James just asked us to set up a campfire, but I thought we should run it by you first.”

“Sure. Just grab some wood from under the porch, there should be enough,” Louis says. “I'll come outside with some beers after I finish this.”

“Do you need help cleaning up the shards?”

Louis notices that Liam looks concerned, but he ignores his gaze. Instead he says, “No, I got it. Oh, could you call in James for me, please?”

Liam does as Louis asks, and while they wait for the boy to run in, Louis forms a messy pile of the shards on the floor.

“Here, Daddy,” James says as he looks at his father, probably wondering what he wants him for.

“Hey, buddy. You need to make a choice if you're going to play on the beach, because you can't sleep in these pj's tonight if you make them all sandy.”

James seems to be thinking hard about this, and for a three year old it's probably a very hard decision to make.

Squatting down to be on the same eye level as James, Louis tickles his sides and adds, “But if you change into normal clothes right now, you can put your pajamas back on when I tuck you in tonight, how's that sound?”

“Yes, please.” James kisses his father's lips. Turning to Liam he asks, “Will you help me?”

Proud of his boy for being so polite, Louis kisses his cheek and smiles at Liam.

“Sure, little man! Let's go.” Liam picks James up off the floor and swings him over his shoulder to carry him upstairs. James laughs hysterically as he stretches out his arms pretending to be an airplane.

Louis laughs too, but once they're out of sight, he feels his heart become heavy again, and the colors in the room that James just lit up turn back into shades. He opens the sink cabinet and grabs a dustpan. Crouching down next to the pile of shards, he starts sweeping them onto the pan, lost in thought. As he throws the remains of the plate in the bin, he wishes he could do the same with the broken pieces inside his chest.

 

**· · · · · · · ·**

 

After washing his face in his bathroom, and changing into sweatpants and a hoodie, Louis now makes his way down the stairs to the beach. He's carrying five fleece blankets with his left arm, and a six pack of beer cans with his right. He puts the blankets on a chair and the beer cans in the sand before he grabs a drink and looks around.

Liam is using a stick to keep the fire going, even though the flames are already pretty high, and James is sitting right beside him, pricking the sand with a shorter stick, pretending to help. He's glad to see that Liam's dressed him up warmly in his jeans and a sweater, but the little hairs on his arms stand up.

“Could you move back a bit, James?” he asks. “You know how I feel about you being near fire.” He grabs a blanket and a can, and makes himself comfortable on one of the beach chairs without losing sight of his son. A sigh of relief escapes his mouth when James does what he asked.

“I'm sorry, Lou,” Liam says as he looks up from the flames. “I didn't realize the fire would make you uncomfortable.”

“It's fine.” He sniffs 'cause he's actually not fine. “I would appreciate it if you didn't call me Lou, though.”

Niall grabs a beer and sits down as well. “Yeah, I was wondering, why are you so sensitive about that? We always used to call you Lou.”

“I just am,” Louis says keeping his eyes on James and closing the subject.

Niall raises his eyebrows, but Zayn shakes his head telling him to let it go. It's funny how they still only need one look to communicate.

“It's because Daddy always called him Lou,” James suddenly whispers. His voice is quiet, but loud enough for all of them to hear it, and Louis' jaw drops. He wants to say something, but Niall does before he can.

“Do you want to grab a bucket and a shovel and build a sand castle with me, big boy?” Niall smiles at James.

James looks at Louis for permission, and as soon as he nods, the boy runs away to get his tools. Niall walks off to find a place just far enough so they can't hear the conversation and starts smoothing the sand.

“Tommo, could you tell us what happened?” Zayn asks while pulling up his blanket to right under his chin. His voice is careful and cautious, but someone had to ask it.

“Well, as you know there's been an accident, and –” “No, I don't mean the accident,” Zayn interrupts him. He looks at Louis through his eyelashes and shrugs a little. “You never really explained why you moved to LA. You just left. I don't know about Li, but I barely know why you guys even ended the band so suddenly. We never really talked about anything after that.”

Louis notices that his tone is turning accusatory and he sighs because he can't blame him. It's true that him and Harry were the ones who ended the band. Not because they wanted to – or maybe they did, it's hard to explain. Trying to organize his thoughts, Louis plays with his fringe. He quickly looks at Liam to see that he's just staring at the flames in front of him, his expression unreadable.

“As you know,” he starts again and he inhales deeply. “Our relationship has never been easy. Harry and I fell in love as soon as we met, but we couldn't be together. Or at least not in public. We used to sneak into each other's bedrooms when you were asleep, and sneak back out as soon as the sun started to rise. When we told you guys we were in love, we'd already been a couple for months. You were so worried about our management and our future, that you told us it was probably just a crush, but we knew better. I never doubted us, but everyone else's doubt got to Harry more than once. Time and time again I had to remind him of...” He stops to look for the right words and shrugs. “Us, I guess. I remember telling him about the day we met a thousand times. I'd tell him about the day green met blue, and one look at my eyes was enough to take him right back, but all the while I was worried someday it wouldn't be.”

He stops to look at Liam and Zayn, and they both look just as sad as he sounds. Zayn's gaze is lost in the flames, and Liam just stares at Louis. Keeping his fringe out of his eyes with his index finger resting against his forehead, he clears his throat.

“One day we went to Modest!'s headquarters to talk to Richard and we told him we wanted to come out as a couple. He told us we weren't allowed to and that if we did so anyway, it would be considered as breaching our contract. We didn't want to leave the band. At the time, our success was growing by the minute, and we couldn't do that to you or ourselves.

“You might remember that after a while the fans started to notice that there was something going on between us and management got worried. Even though a lot of our fans seemed to support our relationship, Richard was afraid the majority would leave us if they found out we are gay. So, he came up with an idea. Modest! hired Eleanor to pretend to be my girlfriend – I'm sure you remember her. We went on loads and loads of dates and I tried my best to make it look like I was in love with her, I really did. But, no matter how hard we tried, the plan backfired. The fans noticed I wasn't as happy around Eleanor as I was around Harry, and they knew our relationship was fake.

“That's when Richard came up with a new plan, and it became unbearable. I had to continue to date Eleanor, and try harder to make it seem real, and at the same time, Harry and I weren't allowed to sit together in public anymore. We weren't allowed to fool around on stage, we weren't allowed to mention each other during interviews unless the interviewer asked us directly about the other person... More and more stories surfaced about Harry dating several women he'd never met in his life, all brought to the media by our own management. Apart from that time they made him date Taylor Swift – do you remember? That girl's made money off of his back for years after.” He drops his finger and shakes his head.

“Anyway, I remember that you and the fans noticed how sad we were at the time. We rarely smiled anymore, but it was much worse than that. Harry cried himself to sleep almost every night, and I tried to comfort him, but there was little I could do. It wasn't so much that we couldn't show the world how much we loved each other. It was more that we didn't understand why we weren't allowed to be ourselves. I've always believed that one day we would be and that there was nothing wrong with being who we were, or are, but Harry was less confident and all of it ruined him. On top of not being able to be himself, he had to watch me kiss and hug Eleanor. He knew it didn't mean anything to me, but he wanted to be the one kissing my lips.

“After trying to make it work for years, I think it was 2016 when they tried to force me to pretend to be engaged to Eleanor and we decided enough was enough. It wasn't just that we didn't want to fool everyone anymore, it was more that marriage would have lost its magic for us if I'd married her, even if it was only for show and not legal. From the day I met Harry, I knew he was the only person I'd ever want to marry. It wouldn't have been the same if I'd been in a fake marriage before. We asked Richard if it would still be considered termination if we came out publicly, and when he said it would be, we decided to do it anyway. Up until this day I am sorry we didn't warn you guys, and I know Harry is too, but we knew you would try to stop us, and we weren't strong enough to resist your pleading. Not anymore.

“So, we told the world live on national TV that we are gay and that we'd been together all along. Harry had been crying and vomiting all day. I was relieved we would finally be free, but it didn't feel that way to him. He was afraid of what the world would think. We knew the announcement would mean the end of One Direction, and we were afraid of life after it. I mean, it was all we knew. You know how people say 'it's not an ending, it's just a beginning'? In this case it was both at the same time. It was the most beautiful of beginnings and the most terrible of endings.

“You were devastated when you heard the news, you were so angry... We didn't blame you, though. I know we killed your dreams right then and there, and I know how selfish you thought we were, but I hope you understand now. Our love had grown behind doors, and to finally watch it flourish was, and still is, the most terrifying but liberating moment of my life.

“We tried to create a new life in England. We figured the media would calm down after a month or two, but they didn't, and our love still didn't have the freedom it deserved. Besides, we knew we wanted to get married someday, and even though same sex marriage was already legal in England at the time, we didn't want our wedding to take place in the country where our relationship had suffered so much. As you know, Harry has always loved Los Angeles. He used to go to Hollywood every chance he got during One Direction, so it was only natural we would live here if we ever decided to leave our motherland. We probably didn't give you the explanation you deserved at the time, I realize that now.”

Louis takes a sip of his beer as a sign that he is done talking, and Liam and Zayn do the same to take it all in.

“I am so sorry, mate.” Zayn looks up at Louis with the most defeated look on his face. “I knew it was hard for you at the time, but I never realized it was this bad. We were so focused on the band...” Resting his chin in the palm of his hand, he directs his gaze back at the fire.

Louis simply nods. There isn't much else he expects Zayn to say. Their story isn't an easy concept to grasp, God knows it's taken him years to do so himself.

“I didn't even know you tried to come out as a couple earlier in our career,” Liam says, sounding just as defeated as Zayn looks. “We thought you had just one conversation with Richard about it right before doing it. I am just so sorry I never took the time to sit down with you guys and discuss it, really listen to you.”

Louis shakes his head. “No, that's why they threw in Eleanor.”

“Speaking of Eleanor,” Zayn says. “Have you ever talked to her after it all came out?”

“I have quite recently, actually.” Louis looks at Zayn, Liam, and back at Zayn. “She sent me flowers after she'd heard about Harry being in the hospital. The bouquet had one of those little cards tucked between the flowers. It said she was sorry for me, and it had her phone number scribbled on the back.”

“That's quite attentive of her.” Liam sounds just as surprised as Louis was the day it was delivered to him.

“It was. I didn't want to talk to her at first, though. I put the flowers in a vase and threw the card in a box with all the other cards Harry and I had received – some telling Harry to get better, even though he couldn't read them, of course, and some telling me to stay strong. Anyway, I had this irrational notion that Eleanor was somehow to blame for all of this.” Louis laughs as if it's stupid. “She was part of our life back when our love was still undercover, of course. I figured that if she hadn't been there, it wouldn't have been so hard, and we wouldn't have had to move to LA eventually, and the accident wouldn't have happened. It took me about two weeks to realize that didn't make sense and that she wasn't to blame for any of it. So, I took the card out of the box and dialed her number.” Louis stops to take another sip from his drink.

“She must have been surprised,” Zayn laughs at Liam.

“She was,” Louis continues. “At first we talked about how Harry was doing and such, but eventually she carefully said that she was sorry for how long it had taken for us to come out as a couple. She somehow felt responsible. I never thought I'd say this about her, but I have to admit that was really grand of her.”

“What did you say?” Liam asks as he rearranges the wood in the fire with the same stick he used before.

“I thanked her and told her she didn't have to feel responsible or guilty about anything.”

Niall reappears from the darkness, carrying James with both arms. They're both covered in sand, but James has a satisfied look on his face as he smiles at his father.

“I think this little monster is quite ready for bed,” Niall says, and his laugh makes his Irish accent stand out even more.

Louis laughs back as he takes in the sleepy eyes on his boy. “I see that. Would you mind taking him, Ni? I think we have more to discuss.”

“Sure. I figure I should give him a bath first, or he'll drown in all the sand.” Niall tickles James' tummy, which causes the boy to laugh out loud and squirm in his arms.

“Say goodnight to Daddy.” Niall grabs James' hand and waves it at Louis while he softly cradles the boy in his arms.

“Goodnight, Daddy,” he says with a tender smile and tired eyes.

Louis gets up from his chair and walks over to them to give James a kiss – one on his cheek, one on his forehead, one on his other cheek, one on his nose, and finally one on his lips. James laughs again as he playfully pushes Louis' face back.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” Louis laughs. “I will check on you later.”

When Niall and James disappear in the house, Louis walks back to his chair and sits down again. He grabs his beer and takes a sip.

“He seems to like the beach,” Liam says with a smile before he too drinks his beer.

“He does. We used to make campfires all the time, Harry and I. Sometimes we'd have dinner on the beach, and we'd set up a tent for the boys to play in while we'd drink wine and talk about the sea and the stars. After a while James and William would fall asleep and we'd carry them inside.”

Louis feels a rush of sadness coming over him, and Liam and Zayn must feel it too, because the atmosphere changes. The air becomes colder and the light becomes dimmer.

“I understand if you don't want to talk about it, but where is William's body?” Liam asks carefully leaning forward and resting his elbows on his thighs. “Did you bury him?”

Louis shakes his head, but he is silent for a while before speaking. “About 85 percent of his skin was burnt. It felt wrong to me to bury him like that, so I had him cremated. He used to be so beautiful – I mean, of course he was, he was James' twin brother and Harry's son.” He swallows back his tears. He knows that they'd understand if he were to cry now, but he doesn't want to, so instead he gathers himself and says, “It didn't feel right to bury him so... damaged.”

“What did you do with his ashes?” Zayn's voice sounds quiet, distant, and his gaze is lost in the fire again.

“They're in his room.” Louis looks up to the sky and blinks in an attempt to keep his tears from falling, but he fails. His voice is hoarse when he says, “I figured I could scatter his ashes here on the beach, because he loved coming here, but I don't want to do that without consulting Harry.”

“I thought you hadn't been in his room since the accident,” Liam says, his voice echoing his surprise.

“I haven't.” Louis shakes his head and wipes the tears from his cheeks. “After I picked up the urn at the crematory, I left it in the living room for days. Anne, Harry's mum, came over to watch James and she thought it was wrong to have the urn just lying around. She took it upstairs to his room. I believe she put it in his crib.”

“Do you talk to her a lot?” Liam stands up to get himself another blanket, and his teeth are chattering. When he's back in his chair, he puts his feet on the edge of it and wraps the blankets tightly around him.

“No, not really. She doesn't understand me anymore, thinks I have given up on her son, because I haven't visited him in a while. She comes over from time to time to watch James, take him to the zoo and such, and whenever she's around she dusts William's room. I heard her talking to his urn once.”

While Zayn gets up to grab another beer, he asks, “How do you feel about her thinking you have given up on Harry?”

“I get why he thinks that, but it's not true. I think I have given up on myself more than on Harry.”

When Louis doesn't continue, Liam asks what he means, and he inhales deeply before responding.

“The first two months after the accident, I visited Harry every day. At first even multiple times a day. After a while, my visits became less frequent, but I still visited him three or four times a week. Until one morning while I was getting ready to go to the hospital again, I realized that even though I had visited him so many times, it hadn't made a difference. Harry's situation was still as bad. I didn't lose hope for his recovery, I just lost the notion that I could help him.”

“I'm sure you helped him in some way,” Liam says. “You're the person he loves the most, he's always felt safest in your presence. He must have felt you were there.”

Louis smiles faintly but not convinced. “Maybe.”

“No, really. Have you never seen those documentaries on the telly?” Liam presses. “People in comas notice a lot more than we think they do.”

Not feeling like getting into this because he made up his mind a long time ago, Louis just nods as he takes a sip from his beer can.

Niall comes walking down the stairs, and Louis notices that he's put on a red hoodie to cover the black and white tank top he was wearing before, and blue jeans have made place for gray sweatpants. Louis and Niall are over at each other's places so often that they don't even ask if they can borrow clothes anymore.

“He fell asleep instantly,” he says as he walks up to the campfire. His beer is now lukewarm, so he opens a new one and sits down. “That little boy cheers me up so much,” he says with a broad smile. “He is so full of life. I bet having him around somehow makes things slightly better for you.” Niall looks at Louis.

Smiling back, Louis says, “Some days it does. You're right, his energy inspires me. It's just hard that he resembles Harry and William so much.”

They all nod and try to think of something to say, because they don't expect Louis to say anything more, but suddenly, he sits up a bit straighter and starts to speak again.

“It's funny, I used to feel a bit left out, you know? Like I wasn't part of this family, because I don't have beautiful brown curls, and my eyes are blue instead of green.” He smiles as he visualizes his boys. “Sometimes I would just look at them, watch them as they played together – throw balls, play their tiny music instruments, just stroll down the beach or a park, it doesn't matter. Sometimes I would keep a bit of distance and watch them, and I would feel so proud. 'That beautiful man right there is my husband and those children are mine.'”

Louis manages to keep a smile on his face, even though tears are streaming down his cheeks at this point. Looking at his friends he sees that they can barely hold it together too. He chuckles and wipes away a few tears, just to feel them being replaced by new ones.

“I can't even tell you what I love most about Harry. Of course his hair is a big part of his beauty, but it's much more than that. The crinkles by his eyes when he laughs, the dimples in his cheeks... He is one of those rare people that have their whole face light up when they laugh, you know? His entire mouth opens up and he almost looks like a happy monkey.”

They all laugh through their tears and Louis sniffs to keep his nose from dripping.

“A very cute little monkey,” he adds. “And his long skinny legs – God, I love those legs. Do you remember when he used to wear baggy jeans? You couldn't see how beautiful his legs really were because there was so much fabric, and I almost felt like they were my secret. When we got back to our house or hotel room and he took off his jeans, I would feel so proud.” He laughs, but at the same time his lower lip starts to tremble uncontrollably. “And that's just his legs.” Barely able to get the words out, he swallows before continuing. “Of course I didn't mind when he started wearing incredibly tight jeans, though,” he jokes, and Liam and Zayn chuckle at each other through their tears while Niall just stares at the fire.

“And the tattoos,” Louis continues. “I love every single one of them. Of course many of them are for me and I love him so much for not being afraid to show his love for me in such a visual way. Most of my tattoos are for him too and I know he feels the same way about them. When we weren't allowed to be together, they were our way of expressing our love for each other. We used to be afraid that someday we would break up and we'd be stuck with all these silly drawings on our bodies that wouldn't mean anything anymore. But I think the fact that we got them in the first place shows that we never really believed we would ever be apart.” He stops to wrap his blanket around him a little tighter.

“Our sons were and are tiny duplicates of him and they show all the same, and maybe even more, beauty as their father. I might lose Harry soon and I've already lost William. James could be the last one with the original Styles look and watching him grow up will be very hard, because I am so afraid he will look just like Harry when he's older, too. Of course it would be a beautiful process to watch, but looking at him now already breaks my heart and I have a feeling it will only become worse.”

He stops to dry his eyes and finish his beer while staring at the flames in the campfire dancing around each other.

Liam and Zayn have managed to stop crying, but Niall is still sobbing quietly. He's heard Louis talk about this before, but it still makes him more emotional than anything else he can imagine, and he's explained it to Louis many times. It's not so much picturing Harry that makes him sad, even though he sees every detail as Louis describes them, it's the way Louis speaks about Harry that touches him. Every word that Louis says about his husband carries so much love. Hearing him talk like that makes Niall ache for love, and he wants to feel the same way about someone as his best friend does for Harry, but at the same time it terrifies him. Loving a living object means you can lose them. Just like every word Louis has just spoken echoes his love for Harry, it also echoes his fear of losing him.

 

After drying their tears, they decide it's time to go to bed. It's gotten pretty late, and the sand has lost the warmth it stole from the sun during the day.

Louis is sure that Liam and Zayn still have lots of unanswered questions, but he's incredibly tired – not just physically, but emotionally too. He's grateful that they don't try to push him into telling more than he wants to tonight. Sometimes people don't realize how excruciating it is for him to go back and explain how he feels.

Since Liam's been in charge of the campfire the entire night, he's the one who gets up to extinguish the flames. He grabs the bucket James and Niall used earlier to build their castle, and he takes it to the sea to fill it with water. Louis watches him from a distance as he squats down and the waves approach him.

He has sat there many times, and it's scary to watch them come nearer. During the day, the sea water looks almost friendly; blue and calm, but at night when the sun's not there to shine her light on them, the waves look black and therefore more terrifying. He usually finds comfort in the fact that they can't reach him.

Liam's been sitting there in the surf for quite some time when Zayn shouts to ask if he's okay. “Yeah, fine!” he shouts back, but Louis and Zayn wait for him to come back, just to be sure. When he does, Louis turns around to gather the blankets and empty cans.

“Just go home, mate,” he says when Niall moves to help him.

“It's okay, I don't mind helping.” Niall grabs another blanket, but Louis puts his hand on his arm to stop him.

“Niall, I love you for being here for me these days, but go get some sleep. You look awful.” Louis shows a playful smile and Niall can't help but laugh.

“Well, thanks, lad.” He gives in and hands the blankets over to Louis. “Liam, Zayn, it's been great seeing you again.” He gives each one of them a short hug, and ends his round with Louis. “I'll see you tomorrow.”

They each say their goodbyes and watch Niall disappear in the house. Liam empties the bucket of sea water above the fire, and the flames go out instantly. He walks off to grab the shovel, puts it in the bucket, and makes his way back toward the house. By the time he gets to the stairs, Louis and Zayn have finished gathering their stuff.

“After you.” Liam stretches out his arm towards the house, and when Louis and Zayn have finished making their way up the stairs, Liam follows them. He leaves the bucket on the porch and walks inside the house where Louis is waiting for him to close the door as soon as they're all inside.

Zayn throws the empty beer cans in the trash and asks, “Where do you keep the blankets?”

“Just put them on a chair or the couch, please,” Louis replies. “We might need them again tomorrow. Is there anything I can do for you before you go to bed?”

“Just promise us you'll get a good night's rest and don't worry too much.” Liam ruffles Louis' hair before walking away. “Goodnight, mate.”

Louis smiles. “Sweet dreams, lads.”

Zayn pets him on the back and says, “See you in the morning.”

When Louis is sure his friends are upstairs, he walks over to the fireplace and looks at the photograph hanging above the mantelpiece. It's a black and white photo from their wedding day, and Harry's wearing a white tuxedo, combined with a silk black bow tie and a pocket square made of the same fabric. Louis' outfit's the same, but the colors are the other way around; a black tuxedo with white accessories. They're both wearing traditional black lacquer shoes. Harry's curls are combed back loosely, forming a sort of quiff on top of his head, while Louis' hair is combed to the side. They're standing in front of a huge tree with beautiful white flowers, and Louis is kissing Harry on his cheek, who exposes a huge smile that almost closes his eyes.

Louis' avoided looking at the photograph for quite some time now, but tonight he feels strong enough to face it. In the picture, Louis' hand is on Harry's chest, and he rises it to cover the one in the photograph and touches the canvas gently.

“Today was a good one,” he whispers tenderly. “I just wish you could have been here.”

He stands there for a little while, with his hand still on the picture. Finally, he lets it slide down and tucks both his hands in the pockets of his black skinnies.

“Promise me we'll be like that again someday,” he says under his breath, and instead of feeling the rush of sadness he's gotten so used to coming over him, his chest fills with warmth. Smiling at the photograph, he whispers, “Thank you.”

 

**· · · · · · · ·**

 

Louis makes his way upstairs,trying to make as little sound as possible, and he carefully opens James' bedroom door to sneak inside. He promised he'd check on him, so he does. The Winnie The Pooh night light in the outlet next to James' bed gives just enough light for the room to be visible. Louis walks over to his son's bed and he squats down beside it to watch the sleeping figure. He figures James must be dreaming, because he's moving his arms and making cute noises.

Louis takes the nearest little arm in his one hand and rubs it with the other. James doesn't wake up, but visually calms down as he yawns and rolls over to where Louis is sat. Louis gives James his arm back and watches as he brings his hand to his mouth to gently start sucking his thumb. Smiling at the cuteness, Louis leans in to kiss his beautiful son's forehead and rub his cheek. Tiptoeing back to the hallway he smiles at James one more time before walking out and closing the door just as carefully as he opened it.

After brushing his teeth, taking off his shoes and clothes, and putting on a pair of sweats that are actually Harry's, Louis is finally in bed. Lying on his side with the side of his face pressed against his pillow, he tries not to focus on the laughter coming from upstairs. Liam and Zayn seem to be having fun and even though Louis has been sleeping alone for quite some time now, he's never felt more alone.

He rolls on his back and stares at the ceiling, wondering what to do. Slowly memories of him and Harry having sex start to enter his mind – the feeling of Harry thrusting slowly inside him, the feeling of himself moving in Harry... He feels something stirring in his abdomen and trying to focus on the last time they slept together, he lets his right hand slide down his stomach into his boxers. The second he touches himself, he pulls his hand back out. This doesn't feel right. He rushes his hand through his hair and lets it rest on the back of his head as he closes his eyes.

Suddenly remembering something, he turns his head to the left, looking at Harry's nightstand. He throws the duvet to the side and gets up. With a little push, he turns on a lamp and then crosses the room to his husband's side of the bed to sit down, where he watches his fingertips gently caress the pillow. Directing his gaze back to the nightstand, he carefully opens the drawer. Inside he finds a couple of old diaries, a bottle of lubricant – which causes him to chuckle – and finally what he is looking for; a couple of rings and a necklace.

After the accident, a nurse removed Harry's jewelry and gave them to Louis. He then put them in Harry's nightstand, and never looked at them again until now. Louis takes one of the rings in his hand and studies it. It's a gold signet ring with a dashing letter S engraved in it. He puts it back in the drawer and picks up the necklace. The small gold chain has a hanger to it – a silver cross that symbolizes the crucifixion of Jesus. Louis drops it in his lap and finally takes Harry's wedding ring out of the drawer. It's a simple gold ring, just like the one on Louis' finger. He tilts it a bit so that he can see the inside. _All your little things._ Louis squeezes his eyes shut and presses the ring against his lips.

 

He sees himself getting down on one knee, holding a little black box in his hand. He was so nervous that day that his knee almost buckled as he lowered it to the floor, but one look at his boyfriend's beautiful face made his knee and the rest of his body and soul strong again. Even though he'd just woken up, Harry looked incredibly handsome. He was wearing nothing but white briefs and the jewelry he refused to take off. His hair was a beautiful mess as he was sitting on the edge of the bed ready to get up, when he saw Louis getting down on one knee.

“Louis William Tomlinson, what are you doing?” Harry asked with big eyes.

Louis chuckled and felt his eyes burn with love and adoration. “Please, just sit down, there is something I want to tell you.”

When Harry nodded slowly and wiggled even closer to the edge of the bed, Louis cleared his throat.

“My dear Harry Edward Styles, or as I like to call you; Harold.” They both laughed nervously as Louis looked up at Harry through his eyelashes. “First of all I want to thank you for being who you are. And I want to thank you for taking a chance on me, because I know how incredibly hard this relationship has been for you. I want to thank you for never leaving me even when it seemed like the entire universe wanted you to.” The longer he talked, the more hoarse his voice became, and his eyes never left Harry's as they started to fill with tears. Getting more and more emotional himself, he lifted up his free hand to hold Harry's.

“I have never loved anyone as much as I have loved you in the past seven years that we have been together, and I find it quite impossible to believe I ever will. I love the way you laugh, and I laugh how you have that one smile that you only use for me – the one you're giving me right now. You have no idea how much that smile means to me.” He stopped to kiss the back of Harry's hand.

“I love how clumsy you are and I love that you don't care if you embarrass yourself. I love how you never ever shut up about babies, and I love the way you dance – or at least I think that's what is it. I love you for who you've been, I love you for who you are, and I love you for who you are yet to be. But above all, I love you. In our own words, I'm in love with you and all your little things. God, I'm so in love with you.” He stopped to wipe the tears from Harry's cheek, but didn't bother with his own.

“When I'm with you, I am whole. If you'd ever leave me, I wouldn't just be a half, I would be nothing. So, please, Harry, let me complete you like you complete me, and make me the happiest man on Earth by marrying me.”

He let go of Harry's hand and slowly moved it to the box. When he opened it, Harry brought both his hands to his mouth and stared at the ring inside. Louis kept his eyes fixed on him, seeing only a blurry version of the man he loved so much through his tears.

“First of all,” Harry said, his voice hoarse. “I want you to know that you already complete me in the most absolute way.” His words were barely intelligible through his uncontrollable sobs but clearer to Louis' ears than anything he'd ever heard as he said, “And second of all, yes, I will definitely marry you.”

With shaky hands, Louis took the diamond ring out of the box and placed it on Harry's right ring finger. He then threw the empty box on the floor and climbed on top of his future husband, kissing him passionately.


	5. Five

 

Five

**· · · · ֍ · · · ·**

 

Louis opens his eyes again, and with a smile, he removes the ring from his lips to lower it towards the necklace. He opens the chain at the close to pull it through the ring, and with a soft 'ping', the ring touches the hanger. He lets the necklace surround his neck and closes it, the material cold against his bare skin, but he doesn't mind it.

He looks down at the ring on his left hand and takes it off. Just like he did with Harry's, he tilts it so that he can see the inscription. _I will always be yours._ Because Harry had decided he wanted a line from Louis' proposal engraved in his ring, Louis did the same with a line from Harry's wedding vows, a week after the ceremony. Even though his mum thought they were a little short, Harry's vows were perfect to Louis. They were simple, but all he needed to hear.

 

_I love you._

_I am who I am because of you._

_You are every reason, every hope, and every dream I've_

_ever had, and no matter what happens to us in the future,_

_Every day we are together is the greatest day of my life._

_I will always be yours._

 

Louis remembers him telling him that he wasn't sure it would be enough, because people were used to him writing songs and they knew how good his writing was. But to him, his wedding vows weren't just a song. He wanted them to cover every feeling he's ever reserved for Louis, and the only way he knew how, was by quoting one of his favorite books, _The Notebook_. He has read that novel multiple times during their relationship, always reciting the parts that he loved most to Louis, even though the latter's never read it himself.

He'd sat down so many times – his leather notebook open on the table in front of him, his pen in his hand, but nothing came to mind, apart from that quote.

 

Louis puts his ring back on his finger and crawls over the bed to his own side. After switching off the lamp, he slides under the duvet and rolls over on his right side, searching for Harry's

pillow. When he finds it, he brings it to his nose trying to find Harry's scent. He knows there's no use, because the case has been washed since the last time he slept on it five months ago. He lays there for a couple of minutes, keeping his nose pressed against the soft fabric. Eventually, he rolls back to the left and climbs out of the safe warmth that is his bed, turning his night lamp on in the process.

He walks over to the closet and opens Harry's side of it by sliding the mirrored door. Biting his lip he looks at the neatly folded clothes sitting on the shelves. Louis hasn't really touched or looked at them since the accident, just the ones that were in the laundry. He put them in the closet and never paid attention to them again, making sure he only ever opens his own side of the closet.

But now here they are – the band- and plane colored shirts on the shelves, the button ups and skinny jeans hanging from the rack beneath it. Standing on the tips of his toes he sees some of his hats and beanies stacked on the top shelf, but he can't reach them. Instead, he crouches down to touch his sweaters on the bottom one. They're soft and somehow feel like Harry, in a way that Louis can't define.

He grabs the one he knows was Harry's favorite the past years – it's a simple gray one with the brand's logo on it and a pouch at the front, nothing special. It's the one that he used to wear whenever he was curled up on the couch, on cold evenings at the beach, and if he didn't feel like dressing up for something as simple as going to the grocery store. He's barely ever washed it – which is unusual for Harry, who likes to keep things clean – because that's the way to keep the fabric soft, according to him.

It's exactly that that's Louis' rescue this night, because it should mean that Harry's scent is still there. When he stands back up and presses his nose in the hood, he smiles to himself when he finds it indeed. It's a mixture of Harry's body odor, his favorite perfume, and his shampoo, and it's basically a smell that brings Louis home.

He carefully closes the closet door and carries the hoodie to the bed, casually draped over his underarm, where he sits down and climbs back in. Shimmying a bit to find a comfortable position, he pulls the duvet up to his chin and the hoodie close to his chest. It's like that with the scent of Harry right there that he sinks into a deep sleep instantly.

 

  **· · · · · · · ·**

 

When Louis goes downstairs the next morning, he finds Liam, Zayn and James sitting around the dining room table, and part of him's glad that they're there – it means he's not alone and that he doesn't have to focus on James, but the first is also his reason to not be glad. Maybe he'd rather be alone, dreading the inevitable talks they're going to have. Maybe he'd rather be left alone with his ownthoughts in stead of having todeal with anyone else's as well. Just maybe.

“Hey!” Liam shows a broad smile as he pours himself some more cereal. He sounds a little too enthusiastic and Louis knows that he's trying to set a mood.

“Good morning, lads,” Louis yawns, slowly waving to Zayn with the hand that's not covering his open mouth. He walks over to his son and kisses him on the forehead, sitting down on the chair next to him. “Good morning, sweetie.”

“Hi Daddy,” James says with his mouth still half full of milk that's dripping out at the corners. “Guess what? No nightmares!”

Louis forces a loving smile. “That's great, James. But then again, you did have Batman to protect you.” He winks at Zayn before turning back to the little boy swinging his legs beside him. “You know what else is great?” When James shakes his head, he says, “What's great is that I just spoke to grandma on the phone and she's taking you to the zoo today!”

“Really?” James jumps up from his chair, dropping his spoon on the floor in the process.

“Yes, really,” Louis laughs tiredly as he bents down to pick up the spoon.

“I should get ready,” James says enthusiastically before he kisses Louis' cheek and then runs off towards the stairs.

“For the millionth time, my dear boy, no running on your socks!”

Zayn laughs as he finishes his breakfast. “I don't think you will ever get that through to him.”

“Probably not. Maybe you should tell him since being a father isn't enough to be considered a superhero these days.” Louis fills a bowl with breakfast, while Zayn stands up to put his and Liam's now empty ones in the dishwasher.

“Actually, could you sit down for another minute?” Louis asks with his mouth full. “There is something I'd like to discuss with the two of you.”

Zayn nods and sits down. “Sure, what is it?”

Louis swallows his cereal and wipes his mouth. “Well, I was thinking you guys probably want to visit Harry while you're here.” He looks at Liam and Zayn to see their reactions, and when they both nod, he continues. “I thought that I should go with you.”

“Really?' Liam asks surprised, and Louis kind of tries to hide taking another bite. “We wanted to ask you, but we weren't sure how you'd feel since you haven't visited him in so long. We didn't want to push you.”

“Yeah,” Zayn agrees.

Louis isn't even sure he isn't pushing himself. They're right; he hasn't felt like visiting Harry in ages, and now he isn't sure if he really wants to go or that he's forcing himself to. What if he regrets it the second he enters the hospital and he can't leave because Liam and Zayn are there? Before he can properly think it over he hears himself say, “I know, but I was thinking about him last night, and having you here, I don't know, I just feel a bit better. I feel like it's time to face him again.”

The words leave his mouth and he knows that there's no way back now. Maybe it's for the best, because now he can't run from his demons anymore. He's still contemplating whether he made the right choice by telling them he'd go, when Liam walks around the table and puts his hand on the older lad's shoulder. “I'm proud of you, mate.”

Louis smiles softly at him and then absentmindedly moves his spoon through his bowl. It's overwhelming, suddenly having his friends here and agreeing to see Harry without really knowing if he wants to, and the worst thing is, he didn't even agree to it, he suggested it himself, like the idiot he is.

His thoughts are interrupted when the doorbell rings, and Louis jumps up wiping his mouth clean. It's most likely Harry's mother, and he's not sure he's up to seeing her today. Trying to keep in mind that James loves her and wants her in his life, he crosses the living room to the hall and shouts up the stairs, “You almost ready, Jim Jam? Grandma's here.”

When he opens the door, he indeed finds Harry's mother waiting on his doormat. She's very good looking for her age, with her long brown hair. She has a beautiful smile, just like her son, but her upper lip is straight where Harry's curls up at the sides. Even though her appearance hasn't changed much over the years, it's obvious that Harry's accident has taken its toll on her, making her look a little older, and Louis can't blame her. God knows he's not the handsome boy all those teenage girls fell in love with years ago anymore. He sees it on their faces sometimes when they recognize him on the streets, all grown up themselves as well. He can practically hear them think that he's a bit of a disappointment these days, and he thinks it too every time he looks in the mirror.

“Good morning, Anne.” Louis smiles faintly at his mother-in-law. She might not understand his ways, but he has nothing against her. Before Harry... Well, Louis never had issues with her when Harry was still around. It's just that they handle things very differently, and wanting Louis to do something usually pushes him in the opposite direction.

She nods. “Louis.”

When Anne walks past Louis to enter the living room, he grabs her arm. “There is something I should tell you before you go any further.”

“What is it?” She looks annoyed and let's her handbag slide from her shoulder to leave it hanging on her forearm.

“Liam and Zayn are here,” Louis says with a soft smile, and he now realizes how nice it is to be able to say that. “Niall thought it would be a good idea to have them come over. They arrived yesterday.”

“Liam and Zayn?” she repeats with a surprised look on her face. “Where exactly are they?” She pokes her head through the doorway to look for them, not looking at Louis once.

“They are in the kitchen, we're having breakfast.” Louis holds up his hand in the direction of the kitchen. “They'll be happy to see you.”

He calls James one more time, and then follows Anne to the kitchen where she opens her arms and squeals, “Boys! What

are you doing here?”

After Liam and Zayn hug her, Anne drops her handbag on the floor and sits down at the dining room table, just as Louis does as well and starts eating his cereal again. Zayn gazes at Louis through questioning eyes as him and Liam follow his example.

“Niall called us a couple of days ago,” Liam starts. “He figured Louis could use our support and we're happy to help him with whatever he needs.”

Anne looks at Louis with almost suspicious eyes, and he just watches the spoon in his hand to ignore her gaze. That's exactly what bothers him about her these days – she doesn't seem to be able to see anything positive about his actions anymore, and he feels like she disapproves of him in total.

“Grandma!” James suddenly re-enters the living room, all dressed up now and running on his socks again.

Louis just rolls his eyes at the sight and decides not to let it rest for now. There's not much use in telling James, or any child, what to do when he's this excited, and frankly he doesn't have the energy to do so right now.

“James.” Anne opens her arms once more and James flies into them, cuddling up to her.

“Did Daddy tell you I'm taking you to the zoo today?” she asks, and James nods enthusiastically as his response.

“I see you haven't finished your cereal yet,” Louis says right after he finishes his own. He pulls out a chair for James to sit on and hands him his bowl, swirling the content shortly before giving him his spoon.

Anne makes small talk with her son's old friends, catching up since it's been so long, while Louis puts some things in the dishwasher and the fridge. He doesn't pay much attention to what they're saying because his mind is still filled with the promise of seeing Harry today. It's only for a short second, but he actually smiles to himself realizing he's surprisingly excited.

“So, where is Niall?” Anne continues their conversation.

“At home,” Louis answers as he sits back down. “He'll probably stop by later.”

Anne nods, basically ignoring him again. “Do you boys have any plans for today?”

Louis, Liam and Zayn smile when she says 'boys', because she always used to call them that back when they were in the band. It makes Louis feel like not a day has passed, but the truth is that a lot has.

“Actually,” Liam says cautiously. “We were thinking of visiting Harry.” When she nods understandingly, he adds; “The three of us.”

Anne's eyebrows raise and she looks at Louis. “You too?” When he confirms with a nod, she says sarcastically, “What, you suddenly feel the need to see him?”

“Anne –” His voice sounds tired and he rubs his hand down his hand when she interrupts him.

“No, I mean it. You haven't visited him in what, six weeks?”

“I know.” Louis puts one foot on the edge of the chair and wraps his arms around his knee as he rests his chin on it. “I guess I just had some thinking to do and last night I realized it's time to face him again. Liam and Zayn want to visit him anyway, so I don't have to do it by myself, either.”

Anne sniffs at him. “You didn't have to go alone anyway, you could have gone with me or Niall, he still visits Harry at least once a week. Gemma still stops by all the time, your own mother even visited him three weeks ago!”

“I understand where you're coming from,” Liam says suddenly to Anne and shrugs as if it's actually quite simple. “But maybe you should just be happy that he wants to go. I don't even want to pretend to know what you must be going through as Harry's mother, but Louis' told us part of how he feels last night and I understand why it has been too hard for him to do it. He just needed some time and apparently he's ready now, that's a good thing.”

Louis smiles at Liam, grateful for saying everything that he was thinking, but it doesn't seem to satisfy Anne because she says, “It's noble of you to stick up for your friend, Liam, but I have to stick up for my son and Louis has abandoned him in the past month and a half.” Louis opens his mouth, but closes it when Anne raises a hand and continues speaking. “It's great that he has his mind straight again, but he can't just walk out of Harry's life when things get hard and then walk back in when he feels like it. He has forsaken his responsibility as his husband and –”

Louis puts his foot on the floor with a soft noise and sits up a bit straighter. “I'd be happy to discuss this with you sometime, but I would appreciate it if you didn't talk about me like I'm not here.” His face is cold when he looks at Anne and adds, “And certainly not in front of my son.”

She turns her face to James, who's staring at the now empty bowl in front of him, and says, “I'm sorry, James,” as Zayn puts his arm around the boy's narrow shoulders.

“Are you all set, boy?” Louis says to his son with a forced smile. “I think it's time for the zoo.”

James seems to forget the uncomfortable conversation and lights up instantly. “Yeah, all set,” he says, smiling back at his father as he climbs down his chair.

Anne gets up and leans down to grab her handbag. “Let's go, sweetie.”

With James' little hands in hers, she starts to lead their way to the hallway, but holds her step when she passes Louis. Turning around to face him she says, “If you do stop by at the hospital today, could you please send him my love?”

“You should do it yourself. I'm sure you'll visit him soon enough.” His expression is still cold and his arms are crossed over his chest as he says so.

There's no way Anne missed the sarcasm in his voice, but she decides not to respond. Instead, she looks at Liam and Zayn. “It was nice seeing you.” She fakes a smile and adds, “Perhaps I'll see you again when I bring James back home.”

After Liam and Zayn have wished James a fun day, Louis follows his mother-in-law and son to the hallway to help James put on the child sized version of the pair of Vans he's currently wearing himself.

“Have a nice day, J-man.” Louis ruffles his hair, and that gets a giggle out of the boy.

“You too, Daddy.” James grabs Anne's hand again, and when she turns towards the door without saying anything to Louis, he gives it a little pull.

She clears her throat, but smiles up at Louis for James' sake. “Bye, Louis.”

“Bye, Anne.”

 

When Louis enters the living room again, he follows Zayn's example who is sitting in one of the armchairs. He wipes his fringe out of his eyes before rubbing the corners of his eyes.

“That was rough,” Zayn says.

Louis shrugs. “I don't really blame her, she can say to me what she wants. Like I said, I just don't want it in front of James. He shouldn't have to witness his father and grandmother arguing about his other father.”

Liam crosses the living room and puts three glasses of tea on the coffee table, before getting comfortable on the couch. Louis knows that him and Zayn are preparing for the talk that he has tried to postpone, and he thinks quickly to find a way out.

“Maybe we should get ready to go to the hospital,” he says before his friends can speak. “Visiting hours start at eleven.” He takes a sip from one of the glasses and gets up, but falls back down in his seat when Liam says, “Well... we were hoping you would tell us about the accident before we go. So we know what to expect” His voice is cautious and he doesn't look Louis straight in the eye, but instead gazes at Zayn through the corner of it.

Louis nods slowly and clears his throat. Since he knew this was coming, he should have prepared himself better for it. He's had to explain it so many times, but every time he still has to look for the right words, the right way to say it. The first few times, he was mostly concerned about sounding to distanced from what the story he was telling, because apparently he sounded like he was explaining what had happened to a far cousin, not himself.

So now he takes his time to gather his thoughts and drink some tea before speaking. When he finally does, he says, “I see. As you probably remember it happened at night in late November. Even though it rarely gets cold here, it's not exactly warm either. We had a, what do you call it, a block party? You know, with all the neighbors? Well anyway, because we all live at the beach, we decided to set up a huge tent on it. It was like the ones you see at festivals, or maybe even local circuses, but a bit smaller.” He takes another sip of his tea before really getting into the story.

“There were all kinds of things inside – a couple of barbecues, a DJ-booth, an improvised dance floor, and some fire pits to keep warm. Harry was dancing with William on the dance floor in the middle of the tent, while James and I were getting

food at one of the barbecues, so we were closer to the exit. To this day, no one's sure what happened – maybe one of the fire pits toppled, could be one of the barbecues. Anyway, somehow a fire started and made its way up one of the sides of the tent.

“At first barely anyone noticed because we were all busy with something and the music was loud, but at some point everyone started to panic. James and William were little boys of course, a bit shorter than James is now, so I lost sight of James. People were running, pushing others out of their way... He found me eventually and clung to my leg. I picked him up and ran out of the tent and onto the beach, and I quickly searched it for Harry and William. When I didn't see them, I looked for neighbors I knew well enough to trust with James, and I told him to stay with them so that I could go look further.

“I wasn't even close to the tent yet when it collapsed. My knees buckled at the sight and I fell down in the sand, but then I realized that I didn't even know where Harry and William were, so I got up and started searching the beach for them again. After walking around for what felt like an eternity, I saw them.”

Stopping to rub his hand down his face, he makes sure not to look at Liam and Zayn. If he catches their sympathetic gazes right now, he'll break down for sure, and he's glad that they're not close enough to put an arm around him.

He continues, “Someone had dragged them out from under the tent, along with some other people. William was lying on his back, but no one really bothered with him, so I knew, or at least suspected that he was dead.”

A tear escapes his eye, and he sees Liam cover his mouth with his hand through the corner of it. Zayn walks off to refill their glasses, but they weren't even empty. Louis waits until he's back to thank him before he continues.

“Even from a distance I could see that most of William's little body was burnt, because his clothes were torn and his skin blackened. There was one woman sitting at his side that I didn't even know, but she was crying uncontrollably. Harry, though, was lying on his stomach and there were four or five people bent over him, checking his pulse, making sure his tongue was out, stuff like that. When I reached him, I told them to turn him over, because I thought the sand would get in his longs. They told me they couldn't turn him over, because they thought his back was broken, and my knees buckled again. Then some guy I didn't know said that Harry couldn't inhale the sand, because he wasn't breathing.”

He takes a sip from his fresh tea and rushes his hand through his hair. After putting his glass down, he pulls his legs on the chair and wraps his arms around them, resting his head on one knee.

“Oh Louis,” Liam says with trembling lips and watery eyes. “That's terrible.”

Louis nods without really looking at him. “I can't remember what happened after that. I think I started crying hysterically, probably throwing sand, I don't know. The paramedics got Harry to breathe again when we were still on the beach. They put him and William in the ambulance and we were rushed to the hospital. I remember them telling me that William was indeed dead. They knew as soon as they arrived at the beach, of course, but they didn't want to tell me until we were at the hospital. There were lots of other people hurt or in danger at the beach, and they thought me going crazy over my dead son wouldn't exactly calm them down. Besides, they wanted to be able to put me on a bed in case I fainted, which wasn't possible in the ambulance, because there were only two stretchers.

“Like I said, about 85 percent of his skin was burnt, but it was the smoke that killed him. I guess that's a good thing, because there's a good chance he was already unconscious when the flames got to him. The doctors told me it had probably felt like falling asleep. That's a somewhat comforting thought.

“They took their time examining Harry. The man that had dragged them out of the tent came to the hospital and told me that Harry was moving towards William, who was already unconscious, when he passed out as well. Most likely because he had inhaled too much smoke too. He was lying right under some of the pipes supporting the tent, and they landed right on top of him. One broke his back and another hit his head pretty hard. The doctors told me we were lucky his skull wasn't fractured.”

He sighs deeply and wipes the tears from his cheeks. Talking about it always makes him realize how lucky he is to still be alive and to still have James, but he also wonders how he's still functioning, even though not properly.

“They actually put him in a coma on purpose, to give his body enough rest for his back to heal, I think, but it was only supposed to be for a little while. He hasn't woken up.” His voice cracks as he starts to sob, not even trying to hold it in anymore. He knows that there's no use once he reaches this point, and he simply gives in to the emotions rushing over him.

Zayn wipes a single tear from his cheek and his voice is shaky when he says, “I'm afraid to ask but... You know, because his back was broken... Do they know what he will be like if he wakes up?”

Louis is a bit shocked at his use of the word 'if' rather than 'when', bu he ignores it and says in between sobs, “No, they don't. I don't want to go into detail, because I probably won't explain it right, anyway, but his back isn't broken anymore, it's healed. They just can't predict the outcome until he wakes up.”

“Do they have any idea when that will be?” Liam asks when he's dried most of his tears.

“Unfortunately not. Could be today, could be in a year, could be never.”

They all stare at the coffee table, and Louis puts his feet back on the floor resting his elbows on his thighs.

“There is something I've never said out loud, because I'm quite ashamed of it,” he says in a quiet voice. He's not sure he wants to admit what it is, but again the words have left his mouth before he's properly thought them over.

“What is it?” Zayn asks.

“I'm actually more afraid of what will happen if he wakes up than if he doesn't. James and I have gotten used to not having him around. What if he wakes up paralyzed? He won't be able to play with James anymore, he won't be able to make music, we won't be able to be intimate...” Louis stares at his intertwined hands and he feels his cheeks turn red.

“There are a thousand ways to be intimate without touching each other,” Liam says in a weak attempt to comfort him.

“I know, Li, but nothing would be the same.” Louis looks up at him, his face all seriousness. “I'm a thirty two year old man with a dead son and my husband is in a coma. Harry doesn't even know William is dead, for Christ's sake.” He now rest his face in his hands trying not to think of when he has to tell Harry. He's imagined the conversation dozens of times, mostly at night, and not any nightmare could scare him more.

Not knowing what else to say, they stay quiet until Zayn suddenly asks, “You mentioned a ceremony. What was it like?”

“It was a small gathering at the church. I had only invited our parents and siblings. Niall was there too. I'd considered inviting you as well, but it had been so long since we'd last seen you and you didn't know William.”

“That's okay,” Liam says. “So Harry's mum moved out here, does yours still live in England?”

“Yes.” Louis nods. “Anne, Robin and Gemma flew out here a couple of days after the accident. Robin has been flying back and forth, but Anne and Gemma have been here ever since. I don't know if they'll stay here even if Harry recovers. My mum visits me sometimes and she was here for the first two weeks, but she has to be in England for my little brother and sisters. Some of them are still in school.”

“I don't know how that works,” Liam says. “But have you informed the woman who gave birth to James and William?”

“I have,” Louis replies. “We talked to her quite a lot while she was pregnant, but not afterward. Because we got in touch with her through a surrogate program, we didn't know her apart from the pregnancy. I sent her a letter to explain what had happened to William, because I thought she deserved to know, had the right to. She sent me flowers with a little card that said that she appreciated me letting her know, and her condolences, of course.”

“That's nice of her,” Liam says with a smile.

“Yeah.” Louis wipes his nose to keep it from dripping as he laughs through his tears and says, “Actually, the note also said that she is available if we ever want another child.”

Zayn laughs too. “Wow. Have you considered it?”

“Of course I have.” Louis shrugs. “I mean, Harry and I used to talk about having another baby, anyway, so it wouldn't be like we are replacing William, which is impossible. But I wouldn't want to raise one on my own, only if I get to do it with Harry.” He wants to add that he feels incompetent to have a child without Harry, to do anything right without Harry, but he swallows the words.

“I hope it works out, would be beautiful,” Zayn says as he stares at Louis but not really.

They finish their teas in silence, probably processing everything Louis just told them, until Liam looks at his watch.

“What time did you say visiting hours start?” he asks Louis.

“Eleven, why? What time is it?”

“Fifteen past ten. Come on, let's get ready.”

Waiting for Louis to walk past him, Liam keeps his arm wrapped around his fragile shoulders as they walk up the stairs with Zayn right behind them.


	6. Six

 

Six

**· · · · ֍ · · · ·**

 

The bathroom is filled with steam by the time Louis steps out of the shower, and he grabs a towel that's hanging from the heater on the wall. The water from his hair splashes on his shoulders as he ruffles it with the towel, getting the most of it out. He then wraps the off-white cloth around his hips and walks over to the sink. Due to the steam, the mirror doesn't show his reflection, so he wipes some of it off with his hand and leans on the cold marble in front of him as he stares at himself.

“I can't visit Harry looking like this,” he says quietly.

He opens the cabinet standing next to the sink and picks up a razor and shaving foam. After putting the razor on the sink and uncapping the bottle, he gently puts some foam on his cheeks and chin. The short hairs tickle his fingertips as he spreads it to his ears and neck. He carefully shaves them off and washes his face.

“Better.”

When he's finished drying himself and the shower off, he uses some product to style his hair. He couldn't be bothered to for weeks, and he is surprised by the result as his fringe playfully leaps up at the side, like it always used to. His cheeks are still hollow and his skin is still a light shade of gray, but he looks somewhat like his old self and he's satisfied.

When enters his bedroom he makes the bed, and this time making Harry's side as well isn't just routine. Even though it was Louis who slept there, it's still nice to see that the duvet isn't neatly tucked in at the side and the pillow isn't as puffy as it usually is.

He finishes and then walks over to the closet to put on a pair of briefs, followed by the usual pair of black skinny jeans. Instead of wearing one of the usual black t-shirts as well, he decides to put on a white baseball tee with red sleeves. That shirt holds lots of memories that he no longer has to escape, and it's nice to wear it again. To complete his outfit, he throws on his black Vans shoes – the same type that James wears because 'they look awesome on Daddy'. He looks at himself in the mirror and for the first time in forever, smiles at his reflection.

 

 **· · · · · · · ·**

 

“I'm actually quite nervous,” Zayn says when they enter the hospital.

They didn't talk much in the car, but instead drove in silence to give all three of them a chance to gather their thoughts. At first Louis tried to prepare them for what they'll see in a couple of minutes, but then he realized that he doesn't really know what that is. Niall mentioned that Harry looks more like himself again, but what does that mean? Does he just look like he's sleeping? Can you still tell that the wind was knocked out of him, even if it was just for a short while?

“Can't blame you,” he responds. “I'm quite nervous myself.” He's carrying the flowers they bought at the little shop next to the entrance of the hospital, and he plucks at some of the petals.

“I'm not, to be honest,” Liam jumps in. “I just feel like I'm going to visit my old friend Harry.”

Louis smiles hoping he could feel the same way. “He should still be in the same room, so I guess we'll just go upstairs.”

He leads the way for his friends, and he wonders if this hospital's always smelled so weird. It reminds him of the home where he used to visit his grandparents as a child, and it's not a nice memory – visiting his grandparents was nice, but old people's homes have always creeped him out, for some reason unknown to him. Just like the food in hospitals and homes, what is up with that? He's never been able to take the smell, let alone try to eat it.

When they step into the elevator, there's a doctor already in there, who Louis doesn't recognize immediately, but it seems she recognizes him. “Mister Tomlinson, right?” she asks with a broad smile on her face.

Louis turns his head to look at her and it takes him a while to stop his thoughts and _really_ look at her before he smiles back. “Good morning, Doctor Sawyer.” They shake hands. “As always, please call me Louis, makes me feel old.”

He doesn't know how old she is, or anything about her, actually, but she looks like she's in her late forties. Her blonde hair barely reaches her shoulders and hangs loosely around her face, where she hides her bright blue eyes behind classic black glasses. Louis notices she barely has any makeup on – maybe just some mascara because she probably has very light eyelashes, judging by the color of her hair. Her lab coat seems a little too big for her, but it somehow looks good on her.

“Louis.” She lowers her hand and switches the file folder from her left hand to her right. “I believe it's been a while since your last visit, hasn't it?”

“Yes, a couple of weeks, actually. I needed some time for myself.” Why is he telling her that? The first sentence alone would have been sufficient.

When Liam clears his throat, Louis realizes that he hasn't introduced him and Zayn to the doctor and vice versa.

“Excuse me, these are my friends, Liam and Zayn. They were in the band with us, as you might remember. This is Harry's doctor, Doctor Sawyer.”

“I remember. Is this your first time visiting Harry?” she asks the both of them as she shakes their hands with the same broad smile she sported when she shook Louis'. It's probably a trained thing, but she manages to make it look sincere.

“Yes, actually,” Liam says. “We live in England, so we can't just stop by.”

“I see.” She smiles again. “I'm sure Harry is happy you're here.” She speaks to Liam and Zayn, but shows Louis a sneaky wink and now he remembers why he's always liked her. She's not like the other doctors he's met – she _understands_ people.

“Well, this is Mister Tomlinson's floor,” she says enthusiastically. “Do you want me to go with you, or will you be fine on your own?”

They step out of the elevator and hold their step in front of it.

“A nurse called a couple of days ago and told me nothing's changed, so I guess I know everything there is to know.”

“Good. You have my phone number, in case you have questions, or anything. I'll be in my office.” She smiles one more time, turns around and walks away.

“She's nice,” Zayn says as they watch her turn the corner.

“Yeah, and a good doctor, too.”

Looking around the hallway, Liam asks, “Which room is Harry's?”

“That one there.” Louis points to a door. There is a sign in the card holder on the wall with Harry's name on it, and even after all this time it's weird for him to see it up there. “Would it be okay if I go in by myself first?” Louis asks carefully. “Because I haven't seen him in a while, and stuff.”

“Of course,” Liam says without hesitation before he moves in for a short hug. “Take all the time you need, we'll be right here.”

“Thank you.”

Louis nervously pulls his t-shirt down as he walks towards the door, and when he puts his hand on the handle, he turns around to look at Liam and Zayn one more time. The latter sends him a thumbs up and a smile, and he turns back to the door pushing the handle down.

When the door opens, he sneaks inside and closes it carefully. What he thought Niall's words might have meant turns out to be right, because Harry looks like he's just asleep and Louis feels like he'll wake him up if he makes too much noise. It doesn't make sense, because Harry isn't just asleep and all Louis wants is for him to wake up.

Right next to the door is a sink, and he opens the cabinet under it to take out a glass vase and fill it with water. After removing the paper and rubber band that were holding the flowers together, he cuts the bottom of the peduncles off and puts the rest of them in the vase. He cleans up the small mess he's made, and then slowly makes his way over to Harry's bed.

He looks at all the cards hanging on the pin-up board above Harry's bed, and because he recognizes almost all of the them, he assumes that most people have stopped writing. At first he feels a rush of anger flowing through his veins, because he feels like people have forgotten about Harry, but then he realizes that it's almost the same as him not visiting for so long.

After staring at the cards for a while, he lowers his head and looks straight at Harry. Niall was right; Harry does look a bit better than when Louis last saw him. His hair is longer, but it's also fuller. The wavy strings that covered his pillow before have made place for his beautiful curls. He notices that Harry was recently shaved and for a second he wonders whose task that is, but he figures a nurse did it.

Images of how Harry looked right after the accident enter his mind. His expression wasn't as peaceful as it is now – instead his face showed pain. There were lots of tubes and machines, where there is now just one to monitor his heart that shows a calm beat, and a tube feeds him through his nose.

Louis crosses the room to the window where the chairs are and he pulls one closer to the bed. He puts the vase with the flowers on the nightstand and rearranges them a bit. He's never really liked flowers and plants, or any of that kind of stuff – hence the dead ones in their yard – but he knows that Harry would love them, so he rearranges them carefully. Before sitting down, he bends forward to kiss his husband's forehead, and it's weird. His skin isn't cold, but it isn't exactly warm either, like that of a person who hasn't moved in too long, which makes sense. He gently brushes Harry's hair with his fingers and buries his nose in it to take in his scent. It shocks him that it hasn't changed a bit. Harry still smells like he always has, and to Louis, that's a comforting.

See, scents hold many memories – it's scientifically proven, actually. For example, whenever Louis smells smoldering coals, he's back in the cottage where he and Harry celebrated Christmas years ago. When he smells certain chemicals, it doesn't matter what they're in, he's reminded of Wiliam's baby wipes, because he was allergic to Zwitsal's. The fact that Harry still smells the same means that he _is_ the same and that Louis doesn't have to create new memories for him.

He rests his cheek against Harry's, and holds him for a while, their skins pressed together. After pulling away and sitting down in the chair, he holds Harry's hand, gently caressing the soft thin skin on the back of it with his thumb. “Hey, baby,” he says in a soft voice. He looks across the room as if to check if no one is watching him, and when he doesn't see anyone there, he turns back to Harry.

“I have to admit it's hard to think of something to say to you, since you won't respond... But I think it's fair to start with an apology. I have no idea if you've even noticed, but I haven't visited you in a couple of weeks. Your mum hates me for it. I don't blame her, sometimes I hate me too.”

He lets go of Harry's hand to stroke his cheek.

“It's been hard without you, Haz,” he whispers. “I wish you would just wake up. James misses you a lot, too. He keeps asking me when you'll come home and it breaks my heart every time I have to tell him that I don't know, because you coming home to me, to us, is all I want.” Wiping a tear from his cheek, he chuckles and says, “It's ridiculous. I didn't cry for a month, but now I can't stop.”

Louis considers telling Harry about William, but decides not to. What if Harry actually can hear him and he'll start to panic, if that's even possible? But then again, what if he dies and he never knew? Maybe that would be for the best, because Louis wishes he had never found out. He places his hand back on Harry's as he pushes the thought away.

“On a happier note, Liam and Zayn are here. I hadn't talked to them in forever, but Niall asked them to come here, because he thought I could use their support. At first I wasn't so sure it was a good idea, but it's been really nice to have them around, you know? Last night we set up a camp fire at the beach, James and Niall were there too. It felt almost complete, but nothing really does without you by my side.”

Louis lets his fingers intertwine with Harry's and stares at the perfect image. “I promise you I'll visit more often. Maybe I'll bring James tomorrow.” He closes his eyes praying to... whatever there might be willing to help him. “Just promise me you'll come back to me.”

He opens his eyes in shock when he feels Harry's hand squeeze his. It was a short, gentle squeeze, but Louis is sure he felt it right. He stares at Harry's beautiful face, but nothing has changed – his eyes are still closed and his mouth still shows the same satisfied smile.

“You'll come back to me,” Louis whispers, barely audible. He presses his lips against Harry's hand and just sits for a while, feeling his breath bounce back of Harry's skin and it's nice.

The door opens with a soft squeak and when Louis looks up, he sees Liam's head peeking through the doorway. “Are you okay?” he asks.

“I'm more than okay. I think he just promised me he'll come back to me.”

Liam looks at him with suspicion, but he decides to let it rest. Instead he asks, “Do you want more time with him, or can we come in?”

“You can come in.” Louis smiles at his friend standing in the doorway. “I've told him everything I wanted to.” He pushes himself up and leans forward so that his face is closer to Harry's. “I love you, sweetheart.” He slowly closes the slight distance that's between them by putting his lips on Harry's.

When he turns around and walks over to the door where he hugs Liam who says, “Good job, Tommo.”

 

When Zayn is inside as well, and Louis is out in the hallway, he looks around. When he sees a doctor a couple of meters away from him, he decides to walk over to her.

“Excuse me,” he says as he gently touches her shoulder.

She turns around in surprise and asks if she can help him with anything. She looks younger than Doctor Sawyer, probably between thirty and thirty five years old. As opposed to Doctor Sawyer's short blonde hair, she wears her brown curly locks in a long ponytail. For some reason Louis reckons she's more formal than doctor Sawyer, like she's here to do business.

“I hope so,” Louis says with a friendly smile. “I was just visiting my husband, Harry Tomlinson, he's in room 215, and –”

“Oh, the pretty one!” Louis is taken back by her enthusiasm and maybe his judgment was wrong. “Do you have a question about his status?”

“Well, kind of. I don't really know how comas work, but I was just sitting at his bedside and I held his hand. When I asked him something important I believe he squeezed mine as a reply. Is that possible?”

She seems to think for a moment before speaking. “When someone is in a coma, their brainstem and cortex don't communicate how they should, or sometimes not at all. After a while, they can begin to work again, but usually not both at the same time. If the cortex starts –” She notices the confused look on Louis' face and starts to laugh. “You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?”

“Not really.” Louis can feel his cheeks turning red and he rearranges his fringe to hide them.

“Without going into further detail, different areas of the brain start to work – or wake up, if you like – separately from each other. It's a gradual process. If certain areas work again, the patient's subconscious comes back slowly. So, to answer your

question, I'm not sure he replied to your question, but there is a good chance he knew you were there and responded to your presence.”

A warmth spreads through Louis' veins. He knows he was there. But at the same time it also worries him, because then maybe he knew when he wasn't there too.

“You said his brain is waking up. Do you think that means his... body is waking up?” Hope echoes in his voice and his blue eyes are big.

“I just want to make clear that I can't know anything for sure because I don't know his situation well enough and comas are a very tricky thing.” She bites her lip trying to find the right words. “All that I can say is that responses like that could be a sign that there's a process going on inside of him, that could eventually lead to him waking up. I just can't tell you for sure and I can't tell you how long that process would take, because it's different for everybody.”

Louis nods and he just look at his hands as they fidget with the hem of his shirt. “I just really want him to wake up, you know?”

The doctor smiles understandingly and says, “Of course you do. Just talk to him whenever you visit and if you ever think he's responding again, tell me or one of my colleagues immediately so that we can check if there's reason to believe he is in fact waking up.”

When he nods, she turns to walk away, but holds her step and turns back to Louis. Her face is thoughtful as she says, “Hope, but don't expect.”

Louis looks to the ground to let her statement sink in, and when he looks up, she is already gone.

 

**· · · · · · · ·**

 

“So explain again what happened,” Liam asks confused when they arrive back at the house.

Louis' been talking about the hand-squeeze the entire time since they left the hospital and the thing is, he's been rambling so much that his friends seem to have lost all track of what's he's saying.

“Yeah, what is going on?” Niall chimes in as he follows them through the front door. He called them from the supermarket and asked if he could come over on his way back. He's got three bags of crisps in his hand, and he's already eating from one, which basically describes Niall.

“I was talking to Harry and I asked him to promise me he'll come back to me and he squeezed my hand, so I asked a doctor or nurse or whatever she was what that means, and she told me he could be waking up. She said all this medical stuff that I didn't understand about different parts of the brain, but what I did understand is that he might be waking up and that's great news of course, it's the best news, because that's all I want, and –”

“Stop, mate.” Zayn throws his hands in the air. “Breathe, for God's sake.”

Louis takes his friend's advice and inhales deeply as he sits down on one of the armchairs. “But really, though,” he starts again, but this time a little calmer. “Wouldn't it be great if he would just wake up? She said that waking up is a gradual process, so I have no idea how long it will take, but there's a chance I might get him back.”

Zayn nods and smiles. His eyes sparkle as he says, “That would be great.”

“And you know what would be awesome?” Louis says with a broad smile. “Now that we are back to being how we always used to be, we could go on vacation!”

Liam, Niall and Zayn look at each other, clearly clueless how they should reacts to that, but Louis doesn't really care, he's just _so_ happy.

“The five of us! And Zayn, you could bring Perrie, Liam, you could bring Sophia and Melissa, and –“

“I lied,” Liam says all of a sudden, causing Louis to finally stop talking. Liam's voice is cold, but there's also a sigh of relief, like he has been carrying a secret and he can finally let it go.

“What do you mean, you lied?” Niall asks with a confused look on his face as he stuffs it with more crisps. Him and Zayn sit down on the couch, but Liam stays exactly where he is.

“I lied when I said that Sophia and I are still happy. We're not.”

“You never told me this.” Zayn sounds almost offended, and Louis reckons that he is, because Liam is still one of his best mates, and he thought he meant the same to him.

Liam inhales deeply and sits down on the armchair opposite Louis'. “Things aren't working out, we're getting a divorce.”

“Why didn't you tell me?” Zayn asks in the same offended tone looking straight at Liam.

“Because we are here for Louis and Harry, and I didn't want to nag about my own little problems.”

“Getting a divorce isn't exactly a little problem,” Louis says. “Did you file the divorce already?”

“Yes.”

“When?” Zayn jumps in.

“Three weeks ago.”

“We didn't even know we were going to visit Louis three weeks ago,” Zayn says angrily. “So what is the real reason you didn't tell me?”

“Because I feel like I've failed, okay?” Liam yells as stares at Zayn. “She is the one who wants the divorce and I feel like I've failed because I wasn't able to keep my wife.”

“There's no need to yell at me, okay? It's not my fault!” Zayn looks away, too stubborn to look at Liam right now.

“Boys, come on. Why does she want a divorce?” Niall asks in a calm voice.

“She says I'm not the man she fell in love with anymore.” Liam shrugs. “I don't enjoy things as much as I used to and I'm mostly at home, which bugs her.”

“But how could you still be the man she fell in love with?” Louis asks. “First of all, no offense, but you were a boy when she fell in love with you. Second of all, you were in the biggest boy band on Earth, traveling the world. Of course things have changed.”

“I know.” Liam shrugs again. “It's just not enough for her anymore.”

Niall crosses the living room to the kitchen to fill four glasses with water and put them on a tray. When he walks back to the couch, his friends are all staring at nothing in silence.

“Hearing you talk about Harry makes me think she might be right.” Liam grabs one of the glasses from the tray and takes a sip as he looks up at Louis. “You still talk about Harry with the same love you used to ten years ago. The same things have changed in your life as in mine, and you've managed to still love each other through it all. Bloody hell, your life and relationship have been way harder than mine.”

Louis thinks about this while drinking his water. “I understand what you mean, but it's still different.” He smiles tenderly. “You have to remember that our love story is a tragic one, and tragedy either pulls you apart, or it brings you closer. With us, it's always been the latter, and therefore I think our appreciation for each other is different, deeper. We've had to fight for each other and that's made us wonder if it was all worth it many times. The answer has always been yes. It's nearly impossible for us to resent each other.

“With you, though, your relationship has always been relatively easy. You know, you fell in love, got married a few years later, got a child, it's all been text book. This is probably the first time in your life together that you've wondered if it's worth it. You've never had to fight for each other and therefore it's easier to let each other go.”

Liam swallows the lump in his throat. “I never really thought about it like that.”

“Wow, Tommo,” Niall says. “I can tell you've had a lot of time on your hands.”

Louis chuckles. “It's true, I've done a lot of thinking about this – or well, about our relationship. Liam, don't get me wrong, I don't think you don't love each other. I think this is just the first time you've ever had to fight for it and that takes you by surprise. Giving up is just the easy way out.”

“But what if the fight really isn't worth it to her?”

“Remind her why it is,” Louis says simply.

“Is it worth it, though?” Liam shifts his wedding ring up and down his finger with a sad look on his face.

“Are you kidding me?” Louis straightens himself. “You took her as your wife years ago, she gave birth to your child. If that is not worth fighting for, I don't know what is. You have to think about Melissa too, you know. I don't want to imagine James having to grow up without me or Harry.” He hears himself say the

last sentence before he really thinks about it, and it leaves a sting in his chest.

“I'm sorry, you were so happy about Harry and now I'm ruining it,” Liam rushes his hand through his short hair. “This is why I didn't mention it.”

“Don't be ridiculous, Payno.” Louis pats Liam's knee. “You're here for me because I need you, so I want to be here for you too. Besides, you really can't ruin my happiness right now.”

They both laugh as Niall gazes at Louis with a look that says 'I told you so' about the part where he admitted that he needs Liam and Zayn, and Louis sends a wink his way.

Liam gets up from his seat to walk over to Zayn and puts his hand on the back of his neck. “Mate, I'm sorry I didn't tell you. Please don't think it's because I don't trust you. Like I said, I feel like I've failed and my best friend is the last person I want to see my weakness.”

“I really don't see you as weak, though,” Zayn says as he finally turns his head to face him. “Just promise me that next time you'll let me in when things get hard.”

Liam circles his arms around Zayn and they whisper some things in each other's ear that are too soft for Louis and Niall to hear.

“Cut it out,” Niall says jokingly. “One gay couple in this group is enough.”

They laugh sarcastically and Louis remembers the time when some of their fans used to think that they were together just like Louis and Harry. It's never been like that between them, but they didn't care about the rumors, so they never denied them.

“How do you feel, though, Tommo?” Liam asks. “Now that you've seen Harry, I mean.”

“I feel surprisingly good, actually.” Louis leans back in his chair drumming his fingertips on the armrests. “I don't regret not visiting him earlier, though. I just needed the time I took and I feel a bit better about it now. Besides, Harry now looks like himself again, whereas before he really looked like a hospital patient, if you know what I mean. That was a lot harder to see.”

“Do you think you'll visit him more often again from now on?” Zayn asks.

“I promised him I will, told him I might bring James tomorrow. Don't know how he will respond to that, though, since he's just so little.” Louis frowns as he tries to come up with a way to tell James about the visit. He has no idea how he feels about the situation, and what kind of father does that make him, really?

“But he's been asking about Harry, right?” Niall asks interrupting his thoughts. “I'm sure he'll be happy to see his dad again.”

 

**· · · · · · · ·**

 

They spend the rest of the day on the beach, and because James isn't there, they can just lie down and talk without having to run around playing games. They talk about Harry, about William, about Liam's divorce, all of it. Every once in a while one of them goes inside to get them fresh drinks or something to eat, but apart from that they refuse to move.

It's a hot sunny day, so the beach is filled with families. Louis watches them, but he doesn't feel the jealousy he used to. He's positive about the future and knows in every fiber of his being that they will be a family again.

Liam tells them that he watches the families too, but that he does feel the jealousy Louis' lost. He's spent fun days with Melissa, but it's been quite some time since he's had fun with Sophia – she's gradually distanced herself from him during the past year. They rarely talk anymore, and even when they do, there is no depth to their conversations. Just last week, she sent him a text to ask if he could get some groceries, while they were both at home. He can't remember the last time they had sex and at night, a 'goodnight' is a rarity. It's a miracle they still sleep in the same bed. He's looking for a new place to buy, since she refuses to leave the house. Sometimes Liam wishes Sophia would just get mad at him, scream what is bothering her, because his cold war has taken its toll on him.

When he tells his friends about all this, Zayn admits that his relationship hasn't been a walk in the park either. When he and Perrie got together, Zayn was a member of One Direction, of course, and she was in Little Mix, a British girl group that was slowly becoming a worldwide success. After the boy band broke up due to Louis and Harry's coming out, Zayn's life changed

drastically, but hers didn't. Zayn was mostly at home working on his art, that's never really gotten any recognition. After two years, Little Mix broke up as well and they spent more time together, and they realized that it was good for their relationship. They'd missed sleeping in the same bed every night and being able to spend entire days together, rather than just an hour or two. Last year, though, Little Mix decided to do a reunion tour, and from the moment they got back together, Zayn has barely seen Perrie. She stayed in a hotel during rehearsals, and she's now been on the road for almost two months. Zayn knows how much she loves being on the road and performing again. If he got the chance to do it all over again he would take it, no doubt, so he's never held her back in pursuing that. Even though he is genuinely happy for her, he's been lonely.

“I was just thinking,” Zayn says suddenly. “And I don't know what's going to happen after this.”

Niall wakes up at the sound of Zayn's voice and rubs his eyes. Beside him Louis is lying on his stomach, and he pushes himself up to rest on his underarms so that he can look at Zayn. Liam simply turns his head and places the side of his hand on his forehead to shield his eyes from the sun.

“What do you mean?” Niall asks in between yawns.

“Well, we are here together now, and it's a lot of fun, but what will happen after this? I mean, Liam and I will have to go back eventually. He will have to deal with the divorce and I... Well, to be honest, I don't really have anything to go home to. I hope to God that Harry wakes up soon, but Louis will have his hands full on him, so where does that leave us?”

“I'm not planning on letting our friendship slip away again,” Louis says as he absentmindedly draws a heart in the sand with his finger. He writes an H and an L in it, but covers it before any of his friends see it.

Zayn takes a sip from his drink and says, “Me neither, but isn't it inevitable?”

“I don't know.” Louis frowns. “You said you don't have anything to go home to. Do you mean you might leave Perrie?”

Zayn sighs. “I don't know anymore, mate. I love her, I do, but I don't know where this is going. We have been together for over ten years, and we haven't even discussed getting married. I've been planning on proposing to her for quite some time, but it never seems to be the right time. Besides, I don't even know if she wants to have kids.”

“Do you?” Liam asks.

“Yes, I would love to. I just feel like there is so much she still wants to do before really settling down, you know? She's thirty one years old, though. I don't know how much longer we can wait.”

“The question is,” Louis says. “Do you want to wait any longer?”

Zayn thinks about this while sipping his drink and eventually shrugs. “To be honest with you, I don't think so. I mean, if I was sure this is going somewhere, I would wait. Then I'd know it's worth it. But what if I wait for another couple of months or even years and it turns out we have very different ideas about the future? I don't know if it's worth the wait.”

“Ask her,” Liam says simply.

“When? Like I said, it never seems to be the right time.”

“Sorry, mate, but that's bullshit. You are in a relationship together, it should always be the right time to talk about that. You're just scared and looking for excuses.”

Zayn nods slowly, knowing Liam is right. “She's on the road for I think another two months, so I'll have to wait at least that long.”

“You can't call her?” Louis asks.

“And say what? 'Hey babe, I know you're about to go on stage but I have a question; where is our relationship going?' I can't do that.”

Louis laughs. “Yeah, that might not be the best approach.”

Zayn laughs too and pushes his sunglasses up a bit as they're starting to slide down the bridge of his nose. “I'm sorry, though. Liam is right, now we're just talking about our problems and you are dealing with Harry and –”

“We're all dealing with something.” Louis shrugs with a smile. “I don't want you to feel like your problems are less important than mine.”

“But you don't know if you'll ever get your marriage back.”

“Yeah, and you don't know if you'll be in your relationship much longer.”

“Bloody hell,” Niall laughs. “For once I'm actually glad I'm single.” 


	7. Seven

 

Seven

**· · · · ֍ · · · ·**

 

That night, when the lads are eating ice cream as a desert on the couch, Anne brings James back home. He immediately runs over to his dad and climbs on his lap to tell him about all the animals he saw that day; zebras, lions, tigers, monkeys, elephants, et cetera.

Louis smiles lovingly at his three year old son, because it's almost his bedtime and since it's been a long day for him he must be tired, but that doesn't diminish his enthusiasm in the slightest. After he finishes describing all the animals, he talks about what food they had for dinner. Even though they just had some French fries and a snack at the zoo restaurant, James talks about it like it's the most posh dinner he's ever had.

When he's told Louis about all his adventures, he jumps off of his lap and walks over to Niall to tell him the exact same story. Even though Niall heard it all when he told it to Louis, he acts like it's new to him and Louis loves him for that.

“Louis, can we talk on the beach for a second?” Anne suddenly asks.

He looks up at his mother-in-law to see that she's fidgeting with her clothes, which gives Louis the impression she's nervous. He doesn't want to do this, doesn't want to do anything that makes him any less happy than he is now, but he tries to keep Harry in mind. He knows that if things were the other way around, Harry would talk to his mum and he would listen to her and ask about her feelings and calmly describe his, but the thing is, Louis also knows that he isn't even half as good of a person as Harry is.

But knowing that Harry would be disappointed if he could see him sitting there on the couch with his feet tucked beneath him like a child is enough motivation for Louis to push himself up and make his way to the back door, even if it means having to drag his feet all the way there.

They sit down in the sand and just stare at the sea for a while, because even though Louis agreed to talk to her, he refuses to start the conversation since she's the one who wants to talk to him after what happened that morning.

The sun is beginning to set and the sky shows a mixture of colors; yellow, orange, pink and red. Her weak beams make the sands glisten, turning the beach into a yellow version of the dark sea.

“So...” she starts in a soft voice. “Did you go see Harry today?”

“We did.” Louis keeps the words short, making clear that he's not too thrilled to talk to her.

“What was it like for you?”

“Oh, come on, Anne.” Louis shakes his head at his mother-in-law sitting beside him. “Don't act like you all of a sudden care about how I feel.”

“I do care about how you feel, though.” Her eyes show that she means it, but Louis' already in too bad of a mood to really let it register.

“Nice way of showing it, saying I've forsaken my responsibility as Harry's husband in front of our son.” He directs his gaze back to the water and shakes his head again.

“You have to understand that I'm scared –”

“And you think I'm not? You think James is not?” Louis snaps and somewhere deep inside him he's sorry, he really is, but he needs to get this out.

The volume of Anne's voice rises as she says, “I do, but I'm his mother –”

“Please, stop acting like this situation is somehow worse for you. I know that that person lying in that hospital bed is your son and that it must be terrible for you, but that man is also my husband. And I didn't just see him lying in a hospital bed.” His voice breaks, but he regains himself by inhaling deeply, the air soft yet burning in his throat. “You haven't experienced the pain of watching strangers do everything in their power to keep your husband alive while others cry over your dead son. I saw my two year old boy lying here in the sand, motionless, his skin burnt.”

He sees Anne staring at him through watery eyes and he guesses that he looks broken and emotionless at the same time, the look that makes it seem like someone is too tired to feel, emotionally drained. He's seen that look on himself in the mirror so many times and he can almost feel it breaking his face right now. He knows that his blue eyes show pain and nothing, like he doesn't care about a single thing anymore, like he wouldn't mind if the world ended right then and there, but at the same time as if he could fall apart if you so much as touched him. He feels that look and he sees it in the way her eyes glaze at him.

“I still hear the echoes of that night every day,” he hears himself say as he keeps his eyes fixed on the rolling tide in front of him. “The sirens of the ambulance, the yelling of the paramedics. Don't even get me started on my own screaming. I kept begging him to stay with me, kept telling him how much I love him and how much I need him. That is why it was so hard for me to face him, because every time I so much as think of him, I hear all that, but I did face him today and it felt good.” Louis suddenly pushes himself up and turns back towards the house, needing to escape from this desperation. “I don't need you to remind me of the mistakes I've made in the past months and probably long before that.” Rushing his hand through the brown mess that is his hair, he starts to walk away from his mother-in-law.

“Louis.” Her voice is loud but calm, and he holds his step at the sound of it as he feels her eyes on his back. “I didn't come here to hurt you, or to argue with you.”

“Then what did you come here for?” His voice resembles what he feels inside his chest; pain and numbness. Weariness.

“Could you please just sit down, so we can talk like adults?” He hears the carefulness in how she says it, probably afraid to push him away any further.

He hesitates, but eventually decides to walk back to where he was sitting. The cold sand caresses his toes, but he doesn't mind it – he's used to the feeling.

Anne inhales deeply before speaking, as if she's looking for the right words, if there are any. “I just want to know what you feel.”

“Guilt,” Louis says, his voice cold. “I feel guilt.”

His gaze doesn't leave the black water in front of him, and the evening air makes the little hairs on his arms stand up as a light breeze touches his skin, but he doesn't feel the goosebumps. All he feels is the void in his chest. As happy as he felt hours before, he now feels miserable. Staring at the waves coming closer, he wonders if the sea taking him in could make him feel anything different than the pain he has felt for so long now. He doesn't care if it would sting, or take his breath away – just anything other than this clenching feeling inside his chest.

“I miss Harry with every fiber of my being, but it's the guilt that's killing me,” he hears himself say.

Anne follows Louis' gaze to the sea and when she speaks, her voice is barely audible. “Why do you feel guilty?”

“Because I didn't save him.” Louis shrugs as if it's obvious. “I'm happy that I saved James, but I can't help but feel like I could have done _more_.” He wraps his arms around his knees, like he always does when he feels vulnerable, and he hears that the numbness in his voice has made place for sorrow. “I keep replaying that night in my head over and over again, and if I hadn't lost sight of James, I could've gotten him out of the tent sooner. If it hadn't taken me so long to find people to trust with my son, I could have gone looking for Harry and William sooner.” For the first time, he turns his head to look at Anne. “I could have saved them. And I don't know how to live knowing that.”

“I'm not going to tell you to stop feeling guilty.” She shakes her head at the horizon. “I know you would have stopped a long time ago if you could.”

Louis nods slowly and looks down at the cold sand as he coops it up and lets it run through the gaps between his short fingers.

They sit in silence for a while, but it's not an awkward silence. There are a million thoughts and questions in the air that they both feel, but neither say out loud, and it's okay. The sound of laughter coming from the house travels through the air and Louis smiles faintly as it reaches him. He can distinguish Niall's laughter – a loud, infectious laugh, and he also hears Liam and Zayn laughing, but much softer. It's the sound of his little boy's laugh that warms his heart.

“Is it wrong that I don't miss William as much as I miss Harry?” he suddenly asks in a soft voice, as if he's ashamed to say it, and he is. The question has been occupying his mind for quite some time, but he's never had the courage to say the words out loud.

Anne puts her hand on Louis' knee when she says, “No, I don't think so.” Her brow furrows. “I don't think you miss Harry more, I think you miss them in different ways.”

“What do you mean?”

"As a parent and a wife, I know that the love you have for your children and your husband are a very different kind of love. The love for your children goes deeper, it's unconditional, whereas the love for your partner is more...” She takes a moment to find the right word. “I'd say tangible. You used to be with Harry every day for about fourteen years, and it's hard to not have someone to discuss the daily things with anymore, even if it's just something as silly as the groceries. Besides, you still have James, so that part of your life isn't completely missing as opposed to Harry's.”

Louis takes a moment to let the words sink in in silence, and he suddenly remembers that he didn't tell her about his visit.

“You know, he might be waking up,” he says.

“Yes, I hope so.”

“No, you don't understand.” He frees his knees from his arms and Anne's hand as he places his own behind him in the sand. “When I was with him this morning, he squeezed my hand.”

Anne straightens her body in excitement, but sounds cautious as she asks, “Does that mean anything, though? Can't it just be a random motion?”

“Could be.” Louis' voice is back to normal; neither filled with pain, nor emotionless. “I asked a nurse about it and she said it could be a sign that he's waking up. I don't know the details, but it's a gradual process of different parts of the brain starting to work again. He squeezed my hand right after I asked him a question. According to the nurse, he probably didn't understand the question, but it's possible that he reacted to my presence.”

“What did you ask him before he squeezed your hand?” It's clear that Anne is no longer trying to hide the hope in her voice.

Louis hesitates, because it's so personal, but tells her anyway. “I asked him to promise that he'll come back to me.”

Anne suddenly grabs his face and kisses him on the cheek. “Louis, that's great!”

He's a bit startled by her sudden intimacy, but doesn't back away, because he's reminded of holding Harry's hand and brushing his curls with his fingers and softly kissing his lips, so instead, he wraps his arms around her and buries his face in her neck.

**· · · · · · · ·**

“I think it's bedtime for a certain boy,” Louis says when they walk back into the house.

“Not for me, right?” James pouts and shows his big green puppy eyes from his spot on Zayn's lap, and Louis smiles at the sight of it, because he remembers how Harry used to do the same when he wanted to get something done. Louis used to tease him by lying on Harry's side of the bed while he was in the bathroom, and when he'd walk out, Louis would pretend to be asleep, so Harry would pout and pout until Louis couldn't contain his laughter anymore. Eventually, he'd make just enough room for Harry to climb into bed as well, but not enough for their bodies to be separated.

Louis looks around the room in an exaggerated way. “Well... It looks like you're the only boy here, so yes.”

“But dahad,” James pouts a bit more.

Louis squats down and rubs James' head. “It's been a long day, boy. Besides, I have something exciting to tell you, but I can't tell you until you're in bed.”

James tilts his head while he thinks about Louis' blackmail and eventually says, “Okay, then.” He still doesn't seem to be too excited, but he's curious to know what his dad has to tell him. Turning around to face Zayn and resting his little hands on his chest, he asks, “Will you be here tomorrow?”

“Yes, I will be here tomorrow and you can sit on my lap all you want then.” Zayn kisses every piece of James' face while he tickles his tummy, wrapping an arm around him making sure he doesn't fall as he giggles and squirms away from his fingers.

When he's calmed down, James grabs his face with both his hands and kisses Zayn right on his lips. Louis smiles endeared at them, because it's been a long time since James has done that with anyone but himself, Anne and Niall.

The boy proceeds by saying his goodbye's to Niall and Liam, giving each of them a big wet kiss on their cheek, and ends his round by thanking his grandmother for the fun day they had together.

“Goodnight, James,” they say in unison.

He waves his little hand with a big smile as he jumps into Louis' arms so that he can carry him upstairs.

 

Dressed in his pajamas and his teethed brushed, James eagerly climbs under the covers. Louis can tell that he's exhausted, but he's trying to hide it because he's too curious to find out his secret. As Louis sits down on the edge of his son's bed, he softly pricks James' chest and says, “I think Niall and Liam are a bit sad because you don't have awesome nicknames for them. What do you think of Superman for Liam?”

James face is thoughtful as he says, “But he doesn't wear a cape.”

“Superheroes don't always wear capes, only when they need to save little boys.” He takes James by surprise as his fingers attack his tummy under the duvet.

“Do you have a cape?” James asks when he's finally able to breathe again.

“I do not.” Louis shakes his head. “But I hope I'm still a superhero to you.”

Nodding slowly he says, “I guess so, because you're my daddy.” He pulls the duvet up to his chin again and wiggles around to find a comfortable position. “You are supposed to tell me your secret now.”

“Well,” Louis grins nervously, because he has no idea how James will respond and quite frankly he's terrified. “I went to see Daddy today.” James widens his eyes and mouth in surprise, and Louis can't tell if it's a positive response, so he adds, “I thought you'd might want to see him as well.”

James nods quickly, but he looks a bit concerned as his little hand fidgets with the corner of his duvet.

“What is it, sweetie?” Louis asks in a sweet voice as he moves his hand up to play with James' curls.

“How is Daddy?” James' voice is quiet and Louis wonders what to say exactly. He can't be too enthusiastic in case Harry doesn't wake up after all, because James won't be able to understand the risks that are still there, but he doesn't want to be too serious about it, either.

“He's doing a bit better. He's still asleep, but all the scary tubes are gone. Only the one feeding him through his nose is left.” He pretends to stick his pinkie in James' nostril. “Right in there.”

James laughs softly while pulling Louis' finger down, but then his face turns more serious and he nods slowly. “Daddy's got to eat.”

Laughing lovingly, Louis nods as well. “Yes, he does.”

James changes his position so that he is now lying on his side, holding the stuffed purple monkey that Harry gave him right after he was born close to his chest. In the middle of a yawn he asks, “When can I see him?”

“I was thinking of taking you tomorrow, would that be okay?”

James nods, but he doesn't look at Louis. His face shows concern again as he gently holds the monkey's ear between three fingers and softly brushes it against his wee nose. Louis considers letting it rest, thinking maybe James is just tired, but he feels like he should ask him what's bothering him, so he does.

“Can we go see Will too?” James' voice is barely audible, like he's afraid to speak the words, and he's still not looking at Louis.

The words hit Louis like a snowball; cold and painful. He inhales deeply and takes a moment before he exhales. The air suddenly feels thick and heavy in his throat. Right after the accident, he tried to explain it all to James. The concept of Harry being asleep wasn't very hard to grasp, because he could see it, but William was just gone. The doctors told Louis he could have one more look at him if he wanted to, but he refused. He wanted to remember William the way he'd always been; beautiful and delicate. He wanted to remember his brown mass of curls, not a small pile of singed hair. On the beach, he'd seen that one of his little shoes was partly burnt, showing wrinkled skin, blackened. The sight was enough for him to know he didn't want to see the rest. He figures the doctors wouldn't have let James in the room if Louis had brought him, because God knows what kind of traumas that would have caused him.

He remembers that even the doctors were shocked when they first saw James the day after the accident. They startled when he waddled down the hallway to go see his father. He needed his entire little hand to hold Louis' pinkie, clinging to it as though it somehow could protect him from all the pitiful eyes staring at him. All the while, Louis just looked at the floor beneath his feet, trying to escape the gazes as well.

He tried to explain it five months ago, and here they are. Louis' never been aware that James doesn't understand that William is gone. Forever. How do you explain death to a three year old? He figures James first just accepted the situation, but then it changed again because he wasn't able to see Harry anymore either, and he now wonders what he's done to James. Was Niall right? Did he take his father from him?

Still not entirely sure how to explain it, Louis says, “William isn't here anymore, James. I told you that.”

“But you never told me where he went.” James tilts his head to look at Louis with big green eyes and his lips slightly parted.

Louis gestures James to move over and climbs on the bed, laying down beside his son. He stretches his arm, and James lays his little head on Louis' shoulder – broad compared to the boy's.

“You know, James, some people go to sleep, and wake up the next morning, like us. And sometimes people go to sleep but don't wake up for a very long time, like Daddy. Unfortunately, some people never wake up again.”

It's a shit explanation, but it's all Louis can come up with – it's all he's been able to tell himself at night when he can't sleep, unable to understand where his son's gone. He's very much aware of what's happened to his body, but what's happened to his soul? It might not have had the time to develop properly, but it was beautiful, and something so sweet and innocent can't just vaporize into nothing. Louis is not a religious man, but he knows that if there is anything like a God, that surely isn't how he or she meant for things to be. One simply does not spend as much time creating something so carefully, so determined to make it great, that they would allow for it to turn into nothing.

“So Will is asleep?” James' voice brings him back to their conversation, and by the sound of it he can tell that he still doesn't understand, and of course he doesn't.

James used to struggle pronouncing William's name, so they told him to just call him Will. He could probably say his full name now, but Louis doesn't bother to change things – it's cute and it somehow doesn't sound like it's been five months since they last saw him, more like five minutes.

“Yes, he's asleep.”

“So he's in his bed? But why don't we ever go tuck him in if he's next door? He could get uncomfortable.” James' brow furrows with worry. None of it makes sense to him.

Louis squeezes his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose with his free hand. “William isn't next door, James. He- he went to a special place to sleep with all the other people who never wake up again.”

“Like a huge bedroom?” It suddenly sounds like it's dawning on James, and it kills Louis that it isn't the truth. Or maybe it is, who knows what Heaven looks like? He decides to agree with him. “Yes, I suppose it is like a huge bedroom.”

“But where is it then?”

There is a certain age when children just accept what their parents tell them, and then there is an age where they want to know the reason and story behind everything. You can't just tell them to open a jar by twisting the top – you have to tell them exactly what happens on the inside when you do so. James is in that age right now, and the timing couldn't be worse.

“To be honest, James, I don't know.” When James doesn't respond, Louis figures he should say more, but he just doesn't know exactly what. “You remember the night at the beach, don't you? With the fire? Will and Daddy were both hurt pretty badly that night, so they went to sleep, just like you do when your tummy aches. The doctors took Daddy to the hospital to help him wake up, but William was already too deep asleep. They had to let him go to that bedroom so he could be more comfortable – wherever it may be.”

James nods slowly, and Louis can tell that he's trying to register it all. “Will we ever see him again?”

“No, sweetie, I'm afraid we won't.”

“But does he have friends there? He should have someone to play with. You and Daddy always say that everyone deserves to have a friend and that that's why we have to be nice to everyone.”

Louis closes his eyes again, trying to push back the emotions that are trying to take him over, as he hears his son say 'we'. He gently rubs James' shoulder in an attempt to comfort him, even though he's not entirely sure he's even sad. “I'm sure he has friends there, people who care about him.”

“We didn't say goodbye before he went away. Do you think Daddy said goodbye to him?” James pushes himself up and rests on his elbows, so he can look at his father, and Louis opens his eyes as he twists James' curls around his fingers.

“I hope so, buddy.” He lifts the corners of his mouth, trying to show his son a smile, but it's not quite there. When it seems like James doesn't have any questions left to ask, Louis slides his arm from under James and lays him down.

“It's pretty late, mate.” He starts to gets up from the bed, but James puts his hand on his arm.

“Please stay with me, Daddy,” he says.

Smiling softly, Louis lays back down and covers James up, making sure he's all tucked in. He presses a few kisses on his forehead and says, “The sooner you go to sleep, the sooner you'll see Daddy.”

James nods and smiles at the thought of seeing his father after all this time. “Goodnight, Daddy.”

“Goodnight, my beautiful son.”

It's silent for a couple of seconds, but then he hears a sleepy murmur from under the covers that sounds like, “Love you.”

Smiling down at the pile underneath the duvet, Louis whispers, “I love you too.”

 

**· · · · · · · ·**

 

When Louis enters the living room after he's made sure that James is asleep, he finds his friends and mother-in-law still sitting on his couch and armchairs. They're watching some TV show that looks like E! News, and he doesn't pay attention to it until he feels the awkwardness in the room. Liam and Zayn's faces are directed at the screen, but Louis notices that their postures are too tense, not relaxed at all. Niall and Anne, however, try to make it seem like they're not looking at him, even though they are. His gaze switches between the two, trying to find out what they are so nervous about. He frowns and holds his hands up to the sides.

“What's going on?”, he asks no one in particular.

Niall nervously turns his head away from his bowl of popcorn to look at Zayn, and when he doesn't react, Niall sighs.

As soon as the words have left his mouth, the atmosphere in the room changes and it feels more relaxed. The air feels slightly lighter and they all dare to look up at Louis now.

“About Harry?” he repeats in surprise.

“And you,” Liam says. When Louis shrugs with questioning eyes, he adds, “Apparently someone saw us leaving the hospital today. They're speculating about Harry's situation. And your marriage.”

Louis frowns again, and sniffs sarcastically. What could they possibly have to say about their marriage? Pointing to the remote control in Niall's hand he asks, “Can I have that?”

When Niall gives it to him, Louis opens the menu that allows you to restart a program. He presses another button as he sits down on the armrest of the couch, and he notices that Zayn and Liam are exchanging nervous looks again, but he ignores them. As soon as the woman on the television starts talking, Anne gets up from the armchair and crosses the room to the kitchen.

“It's been quiet in the world of One Direction, but there is news about former frontman Harry Styles!”

She sounds very happy, which seems weird to Louis since the item is apparently about them visiting the hospital. He's not really bothered by her calling him Styles, since that's how the media know him – they were long gone out of the public eye when he changed his last name. He observes the woman – long blonde hair, braided to one side, not too much makeup, a simple red colored dress. She seems nice enough, but it's her tone that annoys Louis. Without his husband being in the hospital, there wouldn't have been any news, so she shouldn't be so excited about it.

“I'll give you a quick recap. It's been over five months since a fire at a beach party almost knocked the life out of the thirty year old singer and former member of the once so popular boy band. After breaking up the band by stepping out of the closet in 2016, the British heartthrob moved to sunny Los Angeles with his longtime lover and former fellow band member Louis Tomlinson, whose surname he took on five years ago when they sealed the deal. Two years after the wedding, they welcomed their twins, James and William Tomlinson, whose biological mother was a surrogate.”

She points to the screen behind her where a picture of Louis and Harry has made place for one of James and William, and Louis feels like he's been punched in the stomach. They don't look older than a year in the picture, and Louis can actually remember the day it was taken. It was a beautiful day and they visited the beach with the four of them, where some women recognized them and asked for a picture. He reckons one of them photographed the boys while the other one kept them busy.

He looks around the room and sees his friends becoming more and more nervous with every word she says, and he wonders what else is coming. Anne is still out of sight, which worries him even more.

“The family seemed to live a happy life together, staying away from the media, until one very fateful night last November. What was meant to be a fun beach party with the ex pop stars' neighbors, quickly turned into a straight disaster. The party tent somehow caught fire and collapsed, crushing Harry into a coma, and burning their two and a half year old son, William, who died on the spot.”

In shock, Louis opens his mouth, but he doesn't make a sound.

“I'm sorry, mate.” Zayn's voice breaks the now thick air in the room. “We don't have to watch this.”

“No, I want to hear it.” Louis turns his gaze back to the woman on the television, who is still smiling like she's talking about a Summer wedding, or whatever women are so damn cheery about these days.

“Louis didn't have much time to mourn over the death of his son,” she continues. “Since he visited his husband at the hospital every day for the first months following the accident. After two or three, his black Ferrari stopped showing up at the parking lot of the California Hospital Medical Center. As our loyal watchers might remember, the possibility that Louis has left his unconscious spouse has crossed our minds more than once. Even though former One Direction member Niall Horan, who joined Harry and Louis in LA two years ago, often took the trip to the hospital with him, their ex-colleagues Zayn Malik and Liam Payne, who never moved to The United States, were nowhere to

be seen. Well, people, it seems that the old pals have been planning a boy band reunion, 'cause Horan, Malik and Payne joined their friend when he finally decided it was time to visit his husband again this morning. Here we have a picture of the four of them leaving the building. Tomlinson's now three year old son James apparently stayed at home with the sitter. We are currently trying to find a way to contact Louis, as we are curious to know what took him so long to visit poor Harry. Our guess is that good ol' Harold recently woke up from his coma, leaving his husband no choice but to pay a visit. Hopefully they'll be able to make it through all this and go back to being the adorable couple they once were. We sure will keep you updated.”

The screen is now filled with a huge picture of Louis and Harry at some event with a huge question mark between the two. Liam gets up from the couch and walks over to the screen on the wall, and with a little push the woman is silenced and the room becomes a little darker. Louis drops the remote control on Niall's lap and switches seats as he lowers himself in the armchair that Anne left empty.

He is the first one to break the silence when he says, “I can't believe this.” His voice and expression show his anger, as do his fists as they clench around the edges of his armrests. “Why do they even care?”

Niall shrugs and says with his mouth full of popcorn, “To them he's still Harry Styles.”

“Yeah, but we haven't talked to the media in years. I thought they'd forgotten about us. Only a few paparazzi showed up at the hospital after the accident.”

“That's wishful thinking. They've thoroughly discussed the accident, I just never told you. There wasn't much to photograph after the first days, but now there's a story to tell – or sell.”

Louis shakes his head, trying to gather his thoughts as the picture of his sons becomes clear to him again. “She talked about William's death like it's nothing. And they think I've left Harry? They have no idea what they're talking about.”

“Relax, mate,” Zayn says. “It's always been like this, we're just not used to it anymore.”

“Just think of the hysteria they will cause when Harry wakes up.” Louis rubs the lines in his forehead in an attempt to push his headache away. “And I'm taking James to the hospital tomorrow, that will sure make for some good headlines.”

Anne comes walking out of the kitchen and it seems like she's been crying. “I'm sorry you had to hear that, Louis. You're right, they don't know what they're talking about.” She gently rubs his shoulder before she says, “I'm going home. Let me know if the press bothers you, okay? And also let me know how it goes at the hospital tomorrow – with James, I mean.”

Nodding, Louis gets up from the chair and follows Anne to the front door where he leans casually against the wall. “I'll let you know.”

She places her hand against his cheek and says, “I'm glad we could work things out.”

He smiles faintly through his anger, because he's tired of taking it out on everyone – especially Anne, because she's right, they did just work it out and there's no need to ruin it again. So, he forces himself to smile and says, “Me too.”

 

**· · · · · · · ·**

Unfortunately, Louis was right about the media wanting to see James visiting his father. When Liam stops the car in front of the hospital the next day, they see the entrance is blocked by photographers. Louis' not used to this anymore, and God knows if he's ready. He's not so much worried about himself as he is about James – he's never had to struggle his way through a group of grown men, and he didn't ask for this. It's times like these when Louis hates being famous – if you can still call him that. Like Niall said, to the media Harry is still _The Harry Styles_ , but he hasn't done anything in public in years and to James he's just Daddy.

“You ready for this?” Liam asks, keeping his gaze on the crowd about ten meters away from the car.

“No.” Louis sighs and turns his head to face James. “Put up your hood, boy.” Turning back to Liam he says, “Wait for us.”

As soon as Louis steps out of the car, the paparazzi point their cameras at him and start clicking away. Blinded by the flashes, he opens the door where James is sitting and picks him up. James holds on to him like a monkey to a tree – his arms wrapped around Louis' neck and his legs around his waist. After shutting the door, Louis places one hand under James to support him, and uses the other to hold him close to his chest. Covering his ear and face with the hood, he walks around the car and tries to make his way through the crowd, trying not to get James hurt in the process.

“Louis, how is Harry? Any news? Are you two separating? Is Harry awake? Where have you been? Are you happy Liam and Zayn are back? Can we see James? Where did you bury William? Please look here! Can I take a picture of you and your son? Is there a new man in your life? Or a woman?”

The words blur into one together with the flashing sounds of the cameras. Louis feels James sob into the collar of his jacket and he pulls him in even closer. He whispers that it's going to be alright, but he doubts James can hear him as his words get lost in the yelling.

When the sliding doors finally shut behind them he rushes towards the elevator, not letting go of James until he's sure they're out of sight. It's not until they're inside that he puts him on the floor and he quickly pushes the button telling the elevator at which floor to stop. Crunching down to be at James' level, Louis pulls down the hood and ruffles his curls back in their place. The little boy's face is wet and his cheeks red, so Louis uses his thumbs to wipe the tears from under his eyes.

“Are you okay, buddy?” He tries to sound as calm as possible, because if he's learned one thing it's that you should never let your children know that you're worried when they're scared. “Everything's fine now.”

James doesn't answer but his lower lip starts to tremble, so Louis picks him up again and cradles him, making shushing noises telling him it's going to be alright over and over again. He has been photographed a few times in his life, but mostly with phones when people happened to recognize Harry or Louis, never anything like this.

By the time they get to Harry's room, James has stopped crying, but he still hasn't said a word. Louis changes James' position from his chest to his hip, so that it's easier for the boy to see his surroundings, and James puts his thumb in his mouth – something he only ever does when he's scared or extremely tired. Louis kisses his temple and slowly opens the door to Harry's room.

Nothing's changed – no cards have been added to the wall and the flowers Louis put on the nightstand are still there. Of course Harry hasn't changed either – he still looks as peaceful as he did the day before, like he could wake from his slumber any minute. To Louis, he looks just as beautiful as ever.

Trying not to scare James, Louis approaches the bed slowly, keeping his eye on his son. “Do you see that he looks a bit better?”

James nods slowly, his thumb moving up and down between his lips. Louis puts him down on the edge of Harry's bed and for himself he grabs one of the chairs standing by the window. Before sitting down, he leans forward and presses a kiss on Harry's forehead. “Hey, baby.” He wipes a strand of curly brown hair from Harry's face and gently tucks it behind his ear.

With a sucking noise, James pulls his wet thumb out of his mouth and places his hand on one of Harry's fingers. Harry's hands are big, so James' hand looks even tinier than usual. Apparently, the sight of his father touching Harry comforts James – maybe it makes the situation a little less scary for him.

Louis shifts at bit closer to the edge of the chair and gently rubs James' back while they look at Harry in silence for a while.

When Louis turns his head at the sound of the door opening, he sees Doctor Sawyer walking in. The light in the room makes the blue of her eyes even lighter than usual when she smiles friendly and says, “Hi Louis, hi James. It's been a while, little guy.”

James smiles back, but quickly turns his head to look at Harry again. Louis realizes once more that he isn't the only one who misses Harry dearly, and maybe it was wrong to keep James away from him for so long. It's heart whelming to see them together again and even more the way James is holding Harry's index finger.

Louis clears his throat when he gets up to greet Doctor Sawyer. “Hey.”

She smiles again and then says, “Louis, can I talk to you for a minute?”

He looks at James, wondering what to do, and as though she can hear him think, she says, “We don't have to leave the room, we can talk over here.” When she points to one of the corners of the room, Louis nods and follows her there.

“How is he?” Doctor Sawyer nods towards James.

“I don't know. Not so good, to be honest.” Louis puts his hands in the pockets of his jeans and points the nose of his shoe to the floor. “I guess he's been missing Harry more than I thought and he asked me about William last night. He doesn't understand where he is.”

She smiles as if she's trying to say that she understands. “It's a rough situation for us grownups, I can't imagine what it's like for such a young boy.”

Louis closes the subjects by nodding. It's emotional for him to talk about, anyway, but right now he just wants to hear what she has to say and then go back to his family sitting only a couple of meters away from him.

“Actually, I've been meaning to call you,” Doctor Sawyer says. “I just haven't had the time yet. Things are really looking up for Harry.”

“Really?” Louis' face lights up the second the words leave her mouth. Did he hear her right?

“Yes.”

He did.

“I heard that he squeezed your hand yesterday, and last night his heart rate was elevated. That might sound scary, but it usually means that something's happening inside of the body – it's kind of like a wound that itches when it's starting to heal.” Louis nods quickly, begging her to go on. “I decided to run some tests, and the results were far from disappointing. He responses to pain stimuli that he didn't respond to before – don't worry, we didn't hurt him. We also played some music for him and he responded to that too. I still can't tell you when he will wake up, but his entire body responds to stimuli so he is not paralyzed.”

Louis' chest fills with warmth like a hot liquid is flowing through his veins. He wants to hug the doctor, but that might be inappropriate, so he just stands there smiling like an idiot with tears in his eyes. He's almost afraid to smile, and again it's like she can read his thoughts – maybe he's just an open book.

“It's really good news, Louis. You're allowed to be happy.” Her smile is almost as broad as Louis' as she gazes at James, who is now talking to Harry. His voice is too soft for them to hear what he's saying, but Louis figures he's telling him about his trip to the zoo the day before, because he couldn't stop talking about it on the way here.

“Go be with your family, I've got to go make my rounds, anyway. I'll call you if anything happens, of course.” She grabs Louis' bicep and gives it a gently squeeze. “I'm genuinely happy for you.”

Louis clears his throat, because it's still thick with tears, making it a little hard to breathe. “Thank you so much.”

They smile at each other as if they're trying to say something, and then she says her goodbyes to James and leaves the room.

Trying to wrap his head around everything she just told him, Louis stands in the corner of the room smiling to himself a little longer before he rubs his eyes dry and turns around to walk back to James. He sits down on the edge of the bed opposite where his son is sitting, and he can just hear the end of the story James was telling. He smiles because he was right – he was telling Harry about the zoo.

Louis turns his head to look at James. “Are you okay, buddy?”

His gaze doesn't leave Harry's face, his little hand still on his finger, but Louis can tell that James is smiling. “Fine. I just wish we could take Daddy home.”

“Me too, Jim Jam, but he has to sleep a little longer.”

James eyes turn a little more serious, but he doesn't lose his smile. “I know. It would be nice if he could sleep at home, though. So you wouldn't have to sleep alone anymore.”

Sometimes Louis is surprised by how much James notices, and this is definitely one of those moments. He's only three years old and he has so much to deal with himself, but he still realizes how lonely Louis has been. “That's sweet of you. Did you tell Daddy about your new friends?”

Louis directs his gaze back to Harry as James starts telling him about Liam and 'Batman'. The sunlight washing in through the window gently strokes his face, blurring the edges, and he looks so soft. His hair must have been washed recently, because his curls reflect the light in the most beautiful way. Louis slowly caresses his face – starting with his cheek, which feels just as soft as it looks under his fingers. Then he uses one finger to follow the line of his jaw – his well-defined, manly jaw.

Louis softly rubs his earlobe between two fingers, and he smiles as the little hairs on Harry's neck stand up at the touch. He lets go of the earlobe and proceeds his way to Harry's cheekbones. He doesn't have the type of high, visible cheekbones. They're barely there for the eye to see, but very much there for the hand to feel. Louis rubs it gently with his thumb, and leans forward to kiss his eyelids.

As he sits back up again, he asks James, “Is there anything else you'd like to say to Daddy?”

James furrows his eyebrows as he thinks about this for a second. “Just that I miss him and that I hope he comes home soon, because I don't want you to be sad anymore and he would make you happy.”

Louis puts his hand on Harry's thigh as he leans forward to kiss James' forehead. “You're a wonderful boy, you know that?” James nods and Louis laughs. “Okay, okay. Ready to go outside again?”

James sighs. “I guess so.” He pushes himself off the bed and puts up his hood, preparing himself for what's waiting outside. “Bye Daddy, see you soon.”

Louis smiles at James and then leans forward to kiss Harry – this time on his lips. A rush of warmth comes over him, and butterflies flutter in his stomach. He can only imagine how he'll feel when Harry finally kisses him back again. Twisting Harry's curls around his fingers, he says, “I love you, baby.”


	8. Eight

 

Eight

**· · · · ֍ · · · ·**

 

The Call comes two days later. Louis is sitting at his dining room table with Liam and Zayn when his phone rings. At first, he doesn't bother to look, because the media have been calling him every ten seconds the past days. The first few times, he or one of his friends would answer and tell the anonymous person at the other end of the line that they had 'no comment'. 'No comment' turned into 'bugger off' soon enough. They have no interest in selling a sad story to the press. Louis figures he'll give a one time statement when Harry wakes up, and that'll be the end of it.

So this time when his phone rings during dinner, he ignores it, but for some reason, Liam looks up from his plate and catches the name of the caller on the screen. “Louis, it's the hospital,” he says.

Louis drops his fork and picks up his phone. He's visited Harry three times over the past two days – now that he's been reminded of what he's still got, he can't stay away from his husband anymore. He even asked Doctor Sawyer if he could sleep at the hospital, but she laughed and told him that there was no use, and that he'd better go home and spend some time with James – who seems to be happier now that he's seen that his father is still there. Sure, he still gets sad from time to time, but overall he's mostly happy.

Last night Louis heard him crying, so he got out of bed and tiptoed to his room to find him sitting up with his monkey pressed to his chest. When he sat down to ask him what was wrong, he was scared the answer would be that he'd had another nightmare. Louis is never sure what they're about, because when James tries to explain them, it's just random words in between loud sobs. Louis remembers that one time he clearly said Harry's name, which was weird because James never, ever calls his fathers by their names. Putting two and two together he figured that maybe he was in the nightmare himself and spoke Harry's name, and he still prays to God that it wasn't a memory from the night of the fire.

But when Louis finally pushed himself over the edge and asked him what was wrong last night, the answer wasn't some scary dream. Apparently he was just lonely, and the thick teardrops disappeared like snow under the morning sun when Louis offered to let him sleep in his bed with him. It wasn't just nice for James not to have to sleep alone – it was nice for Louis too. Right after the accident they slept together quite regularly, but Louis stopped carrying him to his bed out of fear that James would grow scared of having to sleep on his own. Louis is glad that didn't happen, but in fact he is the one who is still scared of sleeping alone. The bed's been empty for so long now, but still every night he feels his chest tighten just a little when he climbs in it to find that it's cold and empty and lonely, but most importantly; that there's no Harry. There's no Harry to curl up to and there's no Harry to cuddle him in when he's cold. There's no Harry to mumble sweet things into his ear and stroke his hair until he falls asleep. It's just him.

But over the past days it's seemed like Harry is starting to response more and more, and Louis wants it to be true. One time, his pulse elevated when Louis told him he loves him, and Louis even thinks that Harry moved his head slightly when he kissed him on the cheek, but he could have imagined it, because he just wants it so goddamn much.

“Louis Tomlinson.” He couldn't have said his name faster if he'd tried to.

And that's it. The Call. He can feel his heart stop beating and beating like crazy at the same time. Blood rushes through his veins, tingling everywhere. He holds his phone a little tighter, afraid he might drop it because of the sweat breaking out of his palms. He can't speak, his body's shaking and his mind is blank – apart from about fifty memories of Harry shooting through his head right now. Memories from when they first kissed in Louis' crappy bunk bed in the X Factor house, memories from when they first made love to each other, memories from when Louis proposed to him, memories from when they found out they were having twins – all of it, and he has no idea how to process the whirlwind raging inside of him now.

He catches Liam and Zayn look at each other with worried faces without even looking at them.

“Mate, what is it?” Zayn asks, but Louis doesn't respond.

He just stares at nothing – his mouth open, his eyes wide, and he feels like he could just freeze right this second and sit in this chair at his dining room table for the rest of his life. At the same time he wants to jump up and run, run and run some more. There's a numbness and adrenaline rush inside him that he's never experienced and he doesn't know what to do with it, and sitting still or running seem like the best options regardless of whether they make sense or not.

“Tommo, say something, you're scaring me,” Liam says.

Louis lowers his phone and ends the call without saying anything. He gently puts it on the table, and his hands in his lap, for a second moving one back to his phone considering if he should call back and ask if it's real. But he doesn't because of what the answer might be, so his phone and hands stay where they are. Instead he stares at Liam through big blue eyes that have seen too much and too little at the same time. It's just like everything else in his life – highs and lows, too much and too little. He can tell by the way that his heart is beating so hard he thinks it might break through his chest – it's felt more than any human being should have to, but it hasn't experienced enough – a lot, but not enough. Not for a thirty two year old man who was promised a wonderful life with a wonderful husband and two equally wonderful sons.

Liam reaches over to put his hand on Louis' shoulder and squeezes is shortly as if to make sure there's still life in him yet. “Louis, what is it?” he whispers.

Louis swallows around the lump in his throat and finally says the words he never thought he'd hear himself say.

“He's awake.”

 

It takes Louis 20 minutes to get to the hospital. He's ran some red lights, but he couldn't care less right now. Liam and Zayn offered to drive him there, but he wanted to go on his own. This way, they can stay at home with James. He doesn't know that Harry's awake yet, because Louis is sure that he'll want to see him as soon as possible when he finds out, and Doctor Sawyer told Louis that it would be best if he'd come by himself. Even though Harry's woken up, he's still quite weak. She waited an hour before she called Louis, to make sure it wasn't a false alarm. Apparently sometimes it seems like people have woken up from their comas, but they're still absent and will go back to sleep soon. When she was certain that isn't the case with Harry, she decided to call him.

“He can't really speak yet, apart from two words; water and Louis,” she said.

He is quite nervous, because the doctors asked Harry some questions and there are no signs of amnesia, meaning he possibly knows what happened and he'll probably ask about William. Just the thought of having to tell him sends a chill down Louis' spine.

Because it's night, the paparazzi don't expect him to show up, so there are only a few photographers outside the hospital. Louis runs past them, not looking at them once. When he enters the building, he doesn't bother to take the elevator, but takes the stairs instead, running up two at a time. When he gets to the right floor, he runs to Harry's door and stops there. He closes his eyes and inhales deeply, taking a moment to calm down before he exhales.

It's weird – this is the moment he's been waiting for. Not just a day, or two days, but five whole months. He's gone through all kinds of emotions – anger, grief, denial, but all of them led to the same wish. For Harry to wake up. He's stood in front of this door many times wishing this would be the day that he would open it and see Harry sitting up in his bed, smiling as he walks in, but that day never came until now.

What if he's dreamed it? What if the phone call never happened and he just imagined it? What if they were wrong and he's fallen back asleep? What if he opens the door and he sees Harry lying still, the bedsheets tucked in around him?

He can barely keep his hand steady as he reaches out for the handle. When he finally pushes it down and opens the door, he lets out a sigh of relief at what he sees.

He sees Harry looking out the window, his face turned away from Louis. Just the back of his head is a wonderful thing to see with his curls pressed to his skull at the crown, and Louis swallows.

“Look at me, look at me, look at me,” is all he can think as he's stood there in the doorway. He considers calling out is name but he can't speak. He's desperate to see Harry's beautiful green eyes, and the dimples in his cheeks when he smiles. He wants to see Harry look at him the way he only does to Louis, and when Harry finally turns his head after what feels like an eternity, it's everything he hoped it would be. For the first time in forever, blue eyes lock with green and Louis' stars snap back into their constellations. Even though Harry's face smiles weakly, his eyes show all the love in the world.

Louis feels a wave of happiness and love come over him as he rushes to Harry's bed and falls to his knees at the side of it. Taking Harry's hand in his he kisses every part of it, breathing in as much of Harry as he can. Giving up the attempt to keep it together, he starts to sob uncontrollably, throwing his head in Harry's lap. Harry frees his hand from Louis' lips and uses it to gently brush his hair.

It's like everything Louis' been holding in is coming out all at once. He cries and cries – tears of joy and grief mixed together. Afraid to see that he's gone, Louis still hasn't looked up at Harry. Instead he focuses on the soft scratches against his skull, and he loves it. He loves the feeling of hands on him again, and he loves that they're Harry's.

When he finally dares to look up and sees that it wasn't a dream and Harry is still there, he manages to speak.

“Hey, love.”

“Hi.” Harry's voice is soft, weak and hoarse.

They stare at each other, speaking a thousand words without saying any out loud, until Harry shakes his head slightly telling Louis to come closer.

He wipes his cheeks dry as he pushes himself up and lays down on the bed, pressed up against Harry. Because Harry is too weak to move, there's very little space for Louis to lie on, but he doesn't mind at all. Lying on his side with his head on Harry's shoulder he cries some more.

“I have missed you so incredibly much,” he says after a while, and the words hurt in his thick throat. Harry nods against Louis' head, as if trying to say 'I know'. Suddenly, Harry tries to speak, but the word is nothing more than a sound.

“Do you want water?” Louis leans on his elbow to look at Harry, and Harry shakes his head.

“Boys.”

Louis stiffens. “You want to see the boys?” When Harry nods, Louis has to think fast. He can't tell him about William, not yet, so he says, “They're at home, you'll see them soon.” He feels terrible lying to Harry, but he figures the truth is much more painful.

Avoiding Harry's eyes he lowers his head to Harry's chest again, focusing on the sound and the feeling of his heartbeat, trying to grasp that he's really there, and alive, and awake.

It's not long until the door opens and Louis turns his head to look at Anne walking through it. “Oh, my boy!” she cries. “You're finally back!”

Louis sits up, but he doesn't want to get off the bed. He wants to feel Harry as long as possible, afraid he'll lose him again. He takes his hand and kisses the back of it over and over, and Harry smiles fondly before turning his head to face his mother. She leans down and hugs him as tight as she can, crying hysterically. Louis has finally stopped, but the sound of Anne's sobs makes him start again. He lets himself fall back on the bed, not letting go of Harry's hand, and cries and cries and cries.

Anne is whispering things in Harry's ear that Louis can't hear, and that's okay. He switches to his side again and takes in all of Harry. Even though he's under a sheet, the beautiful lank shape of his body is still visible. His skin is pale because he hasn't been out in the sun, of course. It looks almost silky. And his hair... Louis could talk about his hair for hours. He could write songs and books and poems about his hair. Someone's made sure to cut it from time to time during his coma, but it's still longer than it used to be and Louis loves it.

“I'm going to get us some coffee,” Anne says suddenly after quite some time of whispering. “You take care of my son.” She kisses Harry's cheek and then smiles at Louis before leaving the room.

Louis doesn't mind that she's there – of course she is – but it's nice to be alone with Harry for a little while. When Harry speaks, his voice is even more morbid than usual, the tones leaving his mouth slowly.

“Kiss me.”

Louis presses himself up a bit to look at him. “Really, you want me to kiss you?”

Louis laughs, but Harry isn't joking. It's crazy, because they've been together for so long and have kissed an uncountable amount of times, but Louis feels like he's going to kiss Harry for the first time. Butterflies flutter into his stomach unannounced as Louis slowly lowers his face to Harry's. His warm breath touches Louis' lips and skin, giving him goosebumps. He gently caresses Harry's cheek with his fingertips when it happens. Their lips touch. Louis kissed him just this afternoon, but it's so different this time. This time, he feels Harry's lips pressing up to his as well, even though it's light. They don't move, they just keep their lips pressed against each other, and Louis squeezes his eyes shut, trying to capture all that he's feeling. Mostly, he feels love. His own love for Harry, but also Harry's love for him. He doesn't know how he's managed to live so long without it. Maybe he hasn't – not really.

When Louis pulls away and opens his eyes, he asks, “Can you wrap your arms around me?”

Harry laughs weakly and nods, opening his arms for Louis. Louis makes himself comfortable against Harry's body – his head on his chest, his arm around his waist, and one leg across Harry's. Harry closes his arms and gently strokes Louis' back, giving him light kisses on the crown of his head.

Louis hasn't felt this save in a long time, and he imagines that this is what it's like for James when he crawls into bed with him after one of his nightmares. Louis' a bit shorter than Harry, and whenever he's so close to him, he feels small. He doesn't mind feeling small, because it makes him feel like Harry will protect him, even though in reality it's been the other way around for most of their relationship. He doesn't mind that either.

“Oh, look at you two.” Anne enters the room with two paper cups of tea and says, “I'm getting emotional over here.”

When she offers Louis one of the cups, he refuses. “I want to lay here a little longer,” he murmurs as he presses his body even closer to Harry's, if that's possible. Harry chuckles and kisses his head again.

After he drinks some water he says, “It's good to be back.”

Anne leans forward to hold his hand. “Are you okay, though, sweetie?” Her voice turns from happy to worried, and Louis can't blame her, he's still worried too. Maybe even more, because now that he has him back, he really doesn't want to lose him again.

“I'm surprisingly well.” The words leave Harry's mouth slowly – even slower than usual, but speaking is getting easier for him with every word. He now just sounds like someone who's really tired, like he just woke up – which he did, of course.

Anne lets go of his hand to stir her coffee, so Harry moves it back to Louis. This time he places it on his head, gently stroking his hair, and Louis focuses on every touch.

“What did they tell you?” Anne asks.

Harry clears his throat and drinks some more water. “I just know that there's been a fire a little over five months ago and that I've been in a coma ever since.”

“Do you remember the accident?” Louis murmurs against Harry's chest. When Harry says that he doesn't, Louis feels a sigh of relief move through his body – partly because he was scared that Harry might remember feeling pain, but mostly because he was scared that he'd remember what happened to William that night.

“You can tell me that story some other time, though,” Harry says, the words falling off his lips like honey dripping off a spoon. “I want to hear fun things right now. How is Gemma?”

Anne tells Harry about all that his sister's been up to, starting with that they moved out to LA after Harry's accident. Gemma met a guy there and decided she's going to stay, so she got a job and she's looking to buy a house. Harry nods as enthusiastically as his strength allows at everything she says, and occasionally asks or says something. The next topic of conversation is Robin, and Anne tells Harry about how he's been flying back and forth for the past five moths.

By the time Doctor Sawyer enters the room, Anne is still telling Harry about their friends and family, but Louis doesn't hear her stories anymore because he's half asleep, lazy from Harry's warmth.

“I'm sorry to disturb you guys, but Harry should get some sleep.” Doctor Sawyer is just as kind as ever, with her calm voice and warm smile.

“He's just been asleep for five months,” Louis mumbles in a whiny voice.

Doctor Sawyer laughs and says, “That's true, but even though he's awake now, he still needs his rest. His body needs strength – let alone his mind.”

“Can Lou stay, though?” Harry manages to get out suppressing a yawn, and Louis' heart skips a beat at the sound of Harry's nickname for him.

The doctor hesitates but can't refuse Harry's pleading face, so eventually she gives in. “Okay then, but only if he sleeps in a different bed. I'll have one rolled in here.”

“Shouldn't you go home to the kids?” Harry asks Louis as if he totally forgot about them.

“Actually, they're with Liam and Zayn. I'll explain it tomorrow.” Louis gives him a quick kiss to stop him from asking further questions and takes his cellphone out of his back pocket to send Liam a text saying he's sleeping at the hospital and that he'll call them in the morning.

In the meantime, Doctor Sawyer calls one of the nurses to tell them to get Louis a bed, and she makes some small talk with Anne while they wait for it to arrive. When it does, Louis pushes himself up and stretches, yawning heavily. It's not been a long day, but the past hours have been so full of emotions that he feels exhausted. He kisses Harry passionately before walking over to his own bed, and after taking off his shoes and hoodie, he gets under the covers. It's not exactly comfortable, but it'll do. He's happy that he doesn't have to go home tonight, even though he can't sleep in Harry's bed. Being in the same room is enough for now.

Doctor Sawyer is the first one to leave the room after informing them that she'll visit in the morning to check on Harry, and it takes a while for Anne to leave, because she can't stop crying while saying bye to Harry. When she finally manages to leave his bedside, she walks over to Louis' and kisses him on his forehead. “Take care of my baby. I'll see you two tomorrow, but call me immediately if something happens.”

“We'll be fine, Mum, don't worry.” Harry sounds weary, but Louis detects a smile in the way he says it.

When she's gone, it's quiet for a while. Louis wants to talk to Harry, but he figures it wouldn't be fair since he really needs to rest, so instead he just lies on his side and stares at Harry's sculpture in the dark. By the time he finally starts to doze off, Harry's voice brings him back, as he asks, “Lou, can you please come lie with me?” By the sound of it, Louis can tell that Harry is half asleep too. He gets out of the bed and tiptoes over to Harry's, climbs in it, and wraps his arms around him.

“This is bad,” Louis whispers. “We're doing exactly what we are not supposed to be doing.”

“I know, that's why I love it.”

They both giggle.

While they lie in silence for a while, Louis realizes that he wants Harry to never let him go again, so he softly starts singing, “Don't let me, don't let me, don't let me go, 'cause I'm tired of sleeping alone –”

Harry jokingly slaps Louis' arm and accidentally scratches his skin in the process. “That's my song, you dick.”

“Well, as far as I know, you've always loved my dick.”

Louis giggles again, but Harry's voice is serious when he says, “About that... Has there been anyone else?”

“On my dick?” Louis laughs, but Harry doesn't.

“Lou, I'm being serious. Have you been... intimate with anyone – physically or emotionally? ”

When Louis realizes that he's asking this in all seriousness, he stops laughing. “No, of course not.”

“It's just... I was gone for five months so I – I wouldn't hold it against you if –” Harry tries to play it off cool, like he really wouldn't mind it, but the sadness in his voice gives him away.

Louis turns around and grabs his face. “Babe, look at me. There hasn't been anyone else and there never will be anyone else 'cause I only want you, okay?”

Harry nods but says, “I just want you to know that it would be okay if –”

“Haz, stop.” Louis gently holds his finger against Harry's lip to shut him up, stroking them softly. “Don't do this to yourself, there is no reason to, I promise.”

Like he's mad at himself for even thinking it, Harry shakes his head and furrows his brow. “I know, I'm sorry.”

Louis gently presses his lips against Harry's, trying to make the kiss as sincere as possible to let him know that he means it. “Don't apologize. I knew you were going to ask me this sooner or later.”

Harry nods and kisses him back, lingering a bit before pulling back and watching Louis with bright sparkly green eyes. “How are you, though, Lou?”

Shaking his head slightly he answers, “It doesn't matter. All that matters is that you're okay.”

“It does matter,” Harry stresses. “I'm only okay if you are too, and I'd hate to be the reason for you not being okay.”

Sweeping his fringe aside with another quick shake, Louis says, “It's not your fault, Haz, really.”

“So you're admitting you're not okay,” Harry says with a cute smirk.

“Am not.” Louis kisses him shortly. “But I know that you blame this... situation on yourself, and you shouldn't.”

Harry nods. “I do. But I know you,” He playfully pecks at

Louis' nose. “And I know that you're mad at yourself, and you shouldn't be, either.”

Looking down, Louis feels a shiver run down his spine, because Harry has no idea what he's talking about and regardless of whether the fire was Louis' fault, that actually is. He hasn't told him anything yet, he's still in the dark.

“You don't even know what happened...”

Harry lifts Louis' head back up by his chin and says, “I don't care. I know you wouldn't do anything to hurt me.”

 _But I_ am _hurting you, I'm not telling you the truth_ , Louis thinks to himself and it stings. It's a weight pulling on his heart and he feels terrible and ashamed and like a liar and a fraud, because really, who lies to their husband who's just waken up from a five month coma?

“How are William and James?” Harry suddenly asks, and it only makes things worse.

Louis watches Harry's eyes carefully, and what he finds in them hurts. There's hope and expectation in them, and Louis knows that he expects him to say that they are fine and that he's taken good care of them while Harry was away and that they are excited to see him, and all of it would be a lie. Yes, James is excited to see him and he guesses that in a way he's fine, but Louis hasn't taken good care of him, and there is no 'they'.

But he simply can't say that, so instead he says, “They are fine, sweetheart.”

Harry smiles and for a second Louis thinks he's off the hook, but then he asks, “But what have they been up to? Has their speaking improved much? How tall are they now?”

Not sure how else to stop this, Louis follows his first instinct and kisses Harry to shut him up. He than fakes a cheeky grin and says, “Wouldn't want me to spoil everything, right? Just wait and you'll see for yourself tomorrow. Go to sleep now.”

A moan escapes Harry's mouth as a sighs. Louis climbs out of the bed and puts the sheet back in its place. Stroking Harry's hair, he says, “Sweet dreams, baby. And please wake up this time.”

They both laugh softly, trying not to make too much noise, and Harry wishes Louis a good night as well. When Louis is back in his bed, he lays on his side staring at Harry, who is lying on his back with his eyes closed. He can't escape Harry's questions about the twins much longer, but he has no idea how or when he should tell him about William. Isn't there some kind of handbook for situations like this? Can't someone give him advice on how to handle this? Can't Anne just tell him? She's his mum, she should know how to do these things.

Harry seems to be doing well and everything's looking good. Louis doesn't want to be the one to ruin that, but he can't let anyone else do it. He has to be the one to tell Harry the worst news imaginable.


	9. Nine

 

Nine

**· · · · ֍ · · · ·**

 

Louis wakes up before Harry does, and for a minute he wonders where he is, but then it all comes back to him. At first, a rush of happiness comes over him when he sees Harry peacefully sleeping on his side, but then sadness hits him like a ton of bricks. He has to tell Harry about William, and he has to tell him today. There's a lump in his throat and he's so nervous that it's making him nauseous. 

After he climbs out of the bed and puts on his shoes, he slips out of the bedroom and into the bathroom. He sits down on the toilet to think of a plan, but quickly turns around when he feels something rise inside his body. He vomits over and over again until there is nothing left in his stomach. When he's sure he won't throw up again, he walks over to the sink and washes his

mouth and hands. Looking up, he sees his reflection in the mirror. His skin used to be a vale shade of gray, but it's now plain white. The bags under his eyes have never been bigger. “Pull yourself together, Tommo,” he whispers as he rushes his hand through his hair.

He decides to call Niall because his phone is still in his back pocket, but the Irish lad has no advice except to just tell him, and Louis knows he's right. Even though he'd rather not do it alone, Louis refuses Niall's offer to come to the hospital and be there when he tells Harry. They shortly discuss how James is doing with Louis gone for the night, but he barely hears Niall's stories. He catches something about laughing and watching television, so he jumps to the conclusion that James is fine.

For a second he wonders if he should call Anne, almost as if to ask her permission to ruin her son's life, but Louis can't do it. He's still nauseous and he has to just get it over with. Calling Anne would just be a way to stall and there's no use. He's going to have to tell him anyway. It's hanging over him like a dark cloud, and he knows it's going to rain eventually and the wind is too strong to hold up an umbrella.

After Niall wishes him good luck, Louis inhales deeply and walks back into the bedroom, to find Harry's awake.

“Hey Lou, where did you go?” He is sitting up straight in his bed with a huge smile on his face, ready to start the day. He's completely oblivious to the fact that this is going to be the worst day of his life and he shouldn't be wanting to start it at all.

“Just the bathroom.” Louis tries to hide how nervous he is, but his voice sounds absent, and he wants to run for the door.

“Are you okay?” Harry asks worried. “You look terrible.”

Louis' grin is just as weak as his voice when he says, “Thanks, love. Yeah, I'm fine.”

“Come here, then.” Harry opens his arms and Louis walks over to his bedside to bury himself in them. Harry's gentle touch and warmth make Louis want to cry, but he tries to stay strong. Not for himself, but for Harry. For James, for William, even. Everyone he could possibly think of but not himself. He's way past that.

“Can you go get the boys? I really want to see them.” Harry's smile disappears when he sees Louis' face – his eyes are filled with tears and his lips are trembling.

 _It's just like ripping off a band aid_ , Louis tells himself, but it's not just a band aid. If he's going to be metaphoric about this, it's more like stitches closing a big, gross wound that's filled with pain and despair and lies and he's going to pull them out. Not even one by one with caution, but all of them with one hard jerk, taking little pieces of flesh with them.

“I lied to you before and I'm so sorry, but it was for your best interest.” Louis' voice is shaky, just like his body. All the grief from the first few days after William's death come rushing back to him like a tsunami.

“What did you lie about?” Harry's voice is nothing more but a whisper and concern has taken over his expression.

Louis sighs, trying to push back the tears. He can't do this. It's not just that he doesn't want to, he physically _can't_ tell Harry. But again he realizes that he has no choice and he forces himself to look Harry in the eye – his big, green, worried eyes. “I have thought of a million ways to say what I'm about to tell you, and I've come to the conclusion that none of them are any less painful than the others, so I'm just going to say it.”

This is it, he can't go back now. He pinches the bridge of his nose and covers his eyes with his hand, like Harry won't see his tears this way.

“William's gone.”

The words hang in the room like a thundercloud, and Louis' sobs are the rumble before the lightning. He feels it and he's scared and he wants to run for cover, but he's frozen.

“W- what do you mean, William's gone?” Harry's voice is shaky too, but it's filled with disbelieve and denial.

Louis wipes the tears from his face and tries to regain some strength, because it feels like all has evaporated into thin air. He continues to sob while he explains it. “The night of the fire, you passed out while you were trying to save William. The tent collapsed on top of both of you, and he didn't survive the blow.”

At first Harry just opens his mouth, his jaw moving like he's trying to speak but nothing comes out, and his eyes filled with tears, but then it comes – the lightning. Tears streaming down his face, he just says 'oh, my God' over and over again. The same tsunami that came over Louis just moments ago, now hits Harry as his body moves uncontrollably trying to stay afloat. Not knowing how to process all the emotions, he kicks the sheet off the bed and swings his arms at nothing. He grabs his hair so hard that Louis thinks he might pull some out. “Harry,” Louis whispers in between sobs, but he knows there's no use. Harry can't ever hear him over his own cries, and even if he could, it wouldn't make a difference.

Suddenly the door swings open and a nurse walks in. “What the hell is– Oh, my God.” She rushes over to Harry's bed and holds his body, trying to calm him down. Louis sits down on his own bed, sobbing with his hands in his hair. “What happened?” the nurse yells more angrily than concerned.

"I had to tell him about our son. He kept asking about him and–"

“Get out.” She doesn't look at Louis, but keeps her eyes on Harry, who is still swinging his limbs at air, trying to escape from her grasp.

“But I- I can't leave him.”

“Louis, for the love of God, please just leave the room.” This time she does turn her head to look at Louis, and he sees that she actually is concerned. He figures she's just doing what she thinks is best, so he gets up and drags his feet over to the door. Before he opens it, he turns to look at Harry one more time, and sees that he hasn't calmed down one bit. As Louis walks out of the room, he hears Harry scream, “My boy.”

 

Louis sits down on one of the chairs lined up against the wall in the hallway. A couple of people walking by look at him in concern, but no one bothers to comfort him. He doesn't mind, though, because he would probably send them away, anyway.

He's not sure how he expected Harry to react, but this was ten times worse than all the scenarios he came up with. Did he even tell him the right way? Was he too harsh? No, he doesn't think so.

Thinking back on his own reaction, he guesses he really couldn't have expected anything differently from Harry, but it hurts. It hurts like hell.

Because he doesn't think he'll be able to speak from all the crying, he texts Niall to ask him to come to the hospital. While Louis waits for him to arrive, he goes to the bathroom and splashes his face with cold water, washing away the tears. This time he doesn't look in the mirror because he knows he wouldn't like what he'd see.

When Louis sits back down on the chair he was sitting on before, a male nurse offers him a cup of water, and he accepts it with both hands.

“Do you have anyone coming?” the nurse asks.

When Louis tells him that he's waiting for a friend, the nurse offers to wait with him. Not sure why he'd do that, Louis simply nods. They don't talk, they just sit next to each other. The nurse that's with Harry probably warned a colleague, afraid Louis might lose it. Even though he doesn't know the man and he's not planning on saying a word to him, it's still nice not to have to wait alone.

By the time Niall arrives, Louis is just staring at the wall. The waves of emotions have made place for numbness. He hasn't heard Harry screaming in a while, but the nurse hasn't left the room yet, so he has no idea what's going on. When Niall sees him sitting on the chair, he runs towards him.

“God, Lou, I jumped in my car the second I saw your text. What happened?”

The male nurse gets up from his seat, wishes Louis the best of luck, and leaves, making place for Niall. The latter hugs his friend shortly before he sits down.

“I told him about William and he freaked out.” Louis stares at Niall with big blue eyes, filled with despair, and Niall strokes his knee to comfort him when he asks what Harry did exactly.

“He started crying and swinging his arms and legs. A nurse came in because she heard noise coming from the room, and she told me to leave. She's been with him for a half-hour now. What if something is wrong again, Ni?”

Louis rests his face in his hands, rubbing his eyes. Even though he's stopped crying, his eyes still hurt from the salty water flowing through them before, and his throat still feels like he's swallowed sandpaper.

“We don't know that, Lou. Maybe he's calmed down and they're talking.”

“But wouldn't he want to see me if he's calmed down?” Louis lowers his hands to look at Niall. “Maybe he's mad at me and he doesn't want to talk to me.”

Niall shakes his head and grabs one of Louis' hands. “Mate, don't beat yourself up like this. Harry has no reason to be mad at you, I'm sure he knows that. Just give him some time and you'll get to see him soon.”

Louis nods, looking down at his small hand in Niall's. “It's weird, I've thought of different ways this could play out – you know, of what would happen if Harry woke up – and this wasn't one of them. Of course I expected him to go crazy and cry, but I always thought I'd be the one to comfort him.”

It isn't until he says this that he realizes that that is why he was surprised by Harry's reaction. He's not surprised by the way he cried and kicked and swung, he is surprised that he didn't let Louis hold him. He can't remember a time when that happened. The only times he can was right after a fight and he had a reason to be angry with him.

“I know.” Niall rubs the back of Louis' hand with his thumb. “But I swear you will be, because Harry needs you. You've always been the only one who could really calm him down.” When Louis doesn't respond, Niall says, “Do you remember when we used to be on the road and at the end of every tour we'd all just be exhausted – physically, but also emotionally? We would argue about the stupidest things and Harry was always the one to take that kind of stuff to heart and he'd end up crying. He would always turn to you. No matter what we said or did to comfort him, he always ended up going to you. Even if you were asleep, he'd just wake you up and tell you what was bothering him, and you always let him. I refuse to believe that that's changed, nor that it ever will. Maybe he will be hard to deal with right now because he is heartbroken, but he will turn to you eventually.”

Louis nods again, but this time he looks at Niall and there's a faint smile on his face. “I remember.” After a while he asks, “Did you talk to Zayn and Liam today?”

“Yeah, I called them from my car and promised I'll ring them later to let them know what's happening.”

“Okay, good.”

They sit in silence a little longer before the door to Harry's room finally swings open and the nurse walks out. Louis jumps up and grabs her arm. “What's going on?”

She sighs and rushes her free hand through her long brown hair. “He's asleep. I couldn't calm him down, so I gave him some sleeping pills.”

“You did what?” Louis' voice is high and loud. “Why didn't you just let me calm him down? He has to get through this, you can't just put him to sleep like an animal!”

The nurse stays calm, ignoring Louis' anger as she tells him, “I know, Louis, but he woke up from a coma mere hours ago. His body and mind can't handle this right now.”

“So what if he wakes up and he freaks out again, will you give him more pills?” Louis' voice is a little calmer, but he's still angry. He needs to talk to Harry and know he's alright, but he can't do that right now.

“It depends, we'll see.”

“Depends on what? I want to talk to my husband about our son's death and you just put him to sle-”

She puts up her hand to stop him and shakes her head. “You two are going through a hard time –” When Louis opens his mouth to interrupt her, she puts up her hand again and he closes it. “You two are going through a hard time, I get that, but please understand and respect his situation. His muscles haven't moved in over five months. The way he was just kicking his legs and swinging his arms, that's too much for his muscles to handle right now. Don't even get me started on his brain activity.” She rubs her forehead thinking of what else to say. “I don't blame you for telling him, I really don't. But please understand that we are doing the best that we can to help him, and putting him to sleep seemed like the best option for now. I figure he will wake up in about two hours. You can sit by his bed and wait for him to wake up, if you want, but I think it might be better for you to just go home and take some time to process everything that's happened over the past 24 hours.”

At first Louis refuses to go home, but Niall convinces him that he should. “You could just take a quick shower and talk to James, and we'll be back here in an hour, okay?”

Louis nods and slips back into the room to go get his hoodie. He doesn't look at Harry once and without having anything left to say, he leaves.

 

Louis has completely forgotten about the paparazzi until they step out of the building. As soon as the photographers see them, they point their cameras and start flashing pictures, blinding Louis and Niall. They keep shouting questions at them, but they don't respond. When they've nearly made it through the crowd, someone stops Louis. It's a journalist who works for a TV-show, and Louis thinks about what he said about giving a statement when Harry wakes up.

The woman pushes a microphone in his face and asks, “Louis, can you tell us anything about Harry's condition?”

Louis thinks fast and looks at Niall for help, who nods, encouraging him to answer. He clears his throat and prays that it isn't obvious that he was crying just minutes ago as he says, “Yes, I would like to make a onetime statement. I'm happy to inform you that Harry has woken up and that he is doing relatively good. I would also like to respond to the rumors about our marriage by saying that we are not getting a divorce, and that I don't think we ever will. The past five months have been very hard for me and our son, and the upcoming months will be hard for us all, especially for Harry, so I would appreciate it if you'd respect our privacy from now on and let us recover from this as a family. Thank you.”

He nods at the camera and then turns away. The paparazzi shout more questions at him, but Niall navigates him to the car with one hand against the small of his back.

“Was that okay?” Louis asks under his breath as he runs the last few meters.

Niall opens the car from a distance for Louis to climb in and says, “You did fine, Lou. But dammit, they are like freaking piranhas. They'd better not behave like this when Harry gets to leave.”

Louis just nods as he buckles up and then rests his head against the cold glass. _When Harry gets to leave_. When will that be, he wonders. It stings that he can't take nearly good enough care of Harry to just take him home right now. Hell, he'd carry him all the way there if he'd have to.

He sniffs a short laugh as he thinks of himself carrying Harry. Despite his height – or lack thereof – he actually is capable of carrying him and he loves to do so. The thing is that it just looks ridiculous, almost like that one kid in every school class whose backpack seems to be twice the child's size. He's actually never dropped Harry, always managed to keep his balance, apart from one time when they were still living in London and Louis tried to carry him up the stairs to their bedroom. They were both hammered after a party, but Harry a little more than Louis, so he figured he'd help him out. He swung him over his shoulder, laughing as he tried to climb up and Harry kept smacking his ass with both hands. If he remembers correctly, they'd made it up a total of five stairs before they tumbled over and ended up shagging right then and there. They were both covered in bruises when they woke up at the bottom of the stairs the next morning, their limbs tangled up together. It's needless to say that they picked up right where they'd left off and created more bruises in the process.

Niall looks up at him shortly while he switches lanes and says with a grin, “I'm glad to see you laughing. Care to share what's so funny?”

Wrapping his arms around his chest, Louis let's out another soft laugh and shakes his head against the glass window. “It's nothing, just take me home.”

 

**· · · · · · · ·**

 

When they arrive back at the house, Zayn is the only one there. Liam took James to the shopping mall to remove him from the tension in the house. Apparently he's been asking questions about if Louis was with Harry and he figured out that Harry's awake. Because he kept asking if he could go see him, they decided to distract him by doing something fun.

“Can you imagine what he'll be like when he's older?” Louis says as he rubs his hand down his face. “You can't hide anything from that boy now, and he's only three. Why didn't you go with them?

Zayn shrugs and laughs. “I figured someone should be here in case you or Niall came back – or the both of you, apparently. Besides, Batman has to defend the fort while James

finds Liam a cape.” He raises his eyebrows at Louis and grins.

“Wait, what?” Louis giggles.

“Yeah, he said that you told him to get Liam a cape, so that's what he's doing.”

“I didn't– that's not– Oh, never mind.” Louis waves his hand in a way that says 'forget it' as he turns on his heel to make his way to the kitchen.

He tells Zayn about what happened while he has breakfast. He doesn't eat much, because his stomach still feels weird from throwing up earlier. Niall tells Zayn more about Harry because Louis keeps it quite short, and Louis barely listens to them. In fact, Louis barely thinks at all, and it's nice for once. He can't remember the last time he's thought about pretty much nothing, and it's a relief.

When he's finished eating his one sandwich, he goes upstairs to take a shower. What he doesn't tell his friends, is that he's going into William's room first. Thinking that the day couldn't get any worse, he feels like this is the right time to do it. He doesn't bother to open the door slowly, he just swings it open instead. _Like ripping off a band aid_ , he thinks to himself again, and this time it actually does feel that way. It's not as hard as he thought it would be. Maybe that's because he has at least one of his loves back.

The room has the same colors as James' – light brown carpet on the floor, light blue curtains to dim the daylight beaming in, and white furniture with light blue letters on them. The only difference is that James got a bed for his third birthday, and William still has a crib. When he leans forward to look inside of it, he feels like he's going to pick his son up and wish him a good morning like he's done so many times, but instead a finds his urn standing in the corner. It's not one of those boring dark-colored urns that looks like an ancient vase, but a more child friendly one. Louis had it designed three days after the accident when he – strangely enough – could still think straight, before the depression kicked in and he started living on autopilot fueled by a spark of hope. He wanted to make something he knew Harry would agree with, and since Harry had chosen the colors for the baby rooms, Louis figured it would be a good idea to use those colors.

The urn has the form of a cube, with a butterfly standing on top of it – the exact same butterfly that Harry has tattooed on his stomach. The box is – of course – white with light blue letters on it. So far it only says,

 

_William Edward Tomlinson_

_January 17_ _th_ _2021 – November 25_ _th_ _2023_

 

Louis is planning on having a poem written on it someday, but he doesn't want to decide which one without Harry's approval. There is a little paper plane drawn on one of the sides of the box. Harry used to wear a necklace with the same paper plane as the hanger on it that William loved to play with, and Louis has it tattooed on his arm, so he thought it would be a nice way to connect them. The plane is pointing upwards in the drawing, like it's flying up to the sky, and it makes Louis both happy and sad. Where's he flying to?

People always talk about dead people being in a 'happier place', but what is that place? Is it the bedroom that was Louis' best answer to James' questions? Is there some old man with a long white beard waiting to welcome you at pearly gates? He just wishes some dead person could come back to let him know. Not William, though – as much as he would love to see him, it would break his heart to have him leave again. He barely made it out alive the first time, and he's sure he wouldn't survive a second.

Sitting next to the urn is the stuffed purple elephant that Harry got William the day he got James' monkey in the same color. Louis picks it up and hugs it, looking for William's scent, but it's barely there. Some days he thinks he can smell it from memory, but most days it's nothing more than that – a memory stacked somewhere in the back of his mind.

Looking at the elephant reminds him of all the times it was the only thing that could stop William from crying. Also that time when the twins were both sick and woke up in the middle of the night with a fever. Louis was the first to get out of bed, and still half asleep he switched their stuffed animals – giving James the elephant and William the monkey. When Harry woke up and saw him struggling, he yelled at him for a full ten minutes asking him what kind of father he was if he couldn't even keep their favorite toys apart. Louis managed to put the kids back to sleep right through his yelling and ended up pushing him back to their bed without defending himself. He shut Harry up with a kiss and spent the next thirty minutes listening to his apologies and many repetitions of 'you're a great father' until they fell asleep.

It's always kind of been that way when there's something wrong with the boys – Harry freaks out while Louis tries to stay calm and take care of business. They've had discussions about Louis thinking that Harry smothers them too much, but he actually loves him for it. It's weird to think that they now only have one to take care of.

When he's put the elephant back at its place in the crib, he rests his fingers on the urn. He's never been one to believe in spiritual stuff, but he feels like there must be something he can do, so he says, “Hey William, it's Daddy.” He pauses thinking that this is ridiculous and that he's glad that no one can see him, but he still takes a deep breath and continues. “I have no idea if you can hear me – my guess is you can't. I also don't know if this is a fair thing to do, but I want to ask you a favor, is that alright? Daddy is really hurting right now, Will, and he needs strength. Could you send that to him?”

Placing his hands on the rail of the crib he pushes himself up a bit and sighs deeply, feeling his chest expand against his clothes.

“I know that you will if you can, but I have no clue if it's possible and it's killing me. No, that's not a fair thing to say. None of this is your fault, so please don't feel that way – if you can feel anything.”

He has absolutely no idea what he's doing, but for no logical reason whatsoever he still waits for an answer. When he realizes that it won't come, no matter how long he stands here, he nods his head in acceptance. He sits down on the floor and crosses his legs, resting his chin in the palm of his hand as his elbow digs in his thigh.

“I know that I'm the one who should be giving him strength,” he whispers. “But it's not easy, you know? And it breaks my heart that he has not for one second doubted my influence in all this. The possibility that it's my fault has never even crossed his mind. It's not just that he hasn't said it out loud – I can see it in his eyes, too. He trusts me. I don't know what I've done to earn that much trust.”

Placing his hands on the floor behind him, he stretches out his legs, softly kicking the crib with his right foot. He doesn't understand why it's such a relief to talk to – well, no one, actually, but it is. So he decides to stay there a little longer and talk about whatever comes up in his mind, clearing it just a little bit with every sentence he speaks. He doesn't talk much about Harry's situation, actually, but mostly about all the memories that have been swirling through his head lately, laying them out on the carpet in front of him.

It's easy to talk like this. Probably because there's no one to interrupt or talk back to him, but also because in some weird way he believes that William is listening.

Louis imagines him sitting in the big bedroom he pictured earlier, or on a cloud high up in the sky, looking down on the world below him. Louis has no idea where he is, but something tells him that he's never far away – always keeping out a watchful eye and making sure that they're okay.

 

**· · · · · · · ·**

 

“Louis, I'm so proud of you,” Niall murmurs as he stuffs his face with a handful of chocolate balls. “I know how much you were dreading going into his room.”

“Thanks, Ni,” Louis says absently as he fills a glass with water. He takes a sip and says, “Zayn, just some instructions for James, because I don't know when I'll be back. Ehm, he likes to play on the porch so he'll probably want to do that. He'll ask you to come with him, but you don't actually have to play with him, just being there and watching him is enough. Also, if he wants to watch a movie, he'll probably suggest Finding Nemo, but don't let him watch it, because Bruce will give him nightmares for days. There's a kid version of Batman in the drawer beneath the television, so just let him watch that. What else is there?” He takes another sip of his water as he thinks. “I would tell you not to give him too much candy, but knowing you and Liam there's probably no use. Just know that taking care of him if he gets sick is your job. There are cookies in the –“

“Lou.” Zayn shakes his head laughing as he walks over to Louis and pats him in the shoulder. “We know how to take care of a three year old, don't worry. Just go be with Harry, yeah? I'm sure he needs you a little more than James right now.”

Louis nods quickly before finishing his drink. “Nialler, let's go.”

Tripping his way around the kitchen table to grab his car keys, Niall pushes the last piece of chocolate in his mouth, wiping his lips on the back of his hand.

“Charming,” Louis says.

He feels like he's forgetting something, but there's not much to take with him – he's just going to visit Harry. The thing is, he doesn't know what he'll be like, since he was vastly asleep when they left him. He doesn't have much opportunity to think it over on the way there, because Niall makes sure that he really knows how proud he is of him, repeating it over and over again. According to him this proves how strong Louis is, and that that is all Harry needs right now – for him to be strong. Louis knows what he means and he feels good about himself for the first time in a long time.

When they walk through the crowd of photographers in front of the hospital, he doesn't push them away, but smiles and even waves at some of the cameras instead. For a minute he feels like everything will be okay. Sure, Harry will be sad for a while, but Louis will help him through it and they will be happy together soon. He'll take James with him to the hospital and father and son will be reunited and everything will be perfect. He's sure of it.

Unfortunately, all his positivity vanishes like frost under the morning sun when he enters Harry's room to find him lying on the floor next to his bed in a puddle of vomit, crying like a baby.


	10. Ten

 

Ten

**· · · · ֍ · · · ·**

 

The sight of Harry breaks Louis' heart and makes it heart to breathe. He's lying on the floor, unable to move. He looks too weak to even cry, but he can't seem to stop. His hospital pajamas aren't in their place, twisted around his legs and torso, and Louis figures he rolled off the bed, causing them to wrap themselves around him. Fortunately, the cord connected to the heart monitor is long, so it's still attached to him, but the tube that's supposed to feed him is lying on the bed, the pink liquid leaking onto the mattress.

Louis tells Niall to leave before he closes the door and slowly crosses the room to where Harry is, trying not to startle him. Maybe he should call a nurse for this, but since he's still not too happy about how they handled his last breakdown, he thinks he'll just fix this one himself. Harry doesn't need more sleeping pills, Harry needs love and Louis is going to give him that.

When he puts his hand on Harry's shoulder, Harry turns his head slightly – not far enough for their gazes to meet, but Louis can see the side of his face. It's wet from all the crying, the corner of his eye red. He looks exhausted, like all life's been sucked out of him. The pool of vomit drenches Louis' jeans as he sits down beside Harry. He feels the cold substance seeping through the fabric against his thighs, but he doesn't care because his world is shattered in front of him.

He leans back against the nightstand as he gently pulls Harry onto his lap, who sits there like a child – his knees pulled up and his head resting against Louis' chest. Louis wraps his arms around him, stroking his hair and making shushing noises. Harry's body doesn't move as he cries, and he doesn't make a sound. The tears just flow from his eyes like waterfalls – effortless.

When he speaks, his voice is hoarse and barely audible. “Tell me it was a nightmare, Lou. Tell me it's not true. Tell me he's at home waiting for me.”

Louis softly cradles him, rocking from side to side. It's the exact same movement as when he tries to comfort James, and Harry reminds him so much of him now – a vulnerable, helpless child. He feels just like he did this morning, like he can't do this. “I'm sorry, Harry.” The words cut in his throat as he squeezes them out.

This time, it's not hard for Louis not to cry. He feels like he should be strong for Harry, and not let his emotions get the best of him. He's already been through all of this, but now it's Harry's turn. Louis had to do it without Harry and Lord knows how hard that was, so he wants to give Harry all the support he has inside him.

“What even happened?” Louis whispers after a while as he takes in the sight of the sheets defeatedly hanging from the side of the bed. He's still cradling Harry, because the rocking seems to calm him down.

“When I woke up I felt like I was going to throw up. I pushed the button to call a nurse, but when no one came, I wanted to go to the bathroom. As soon as I tried to stand, my knees buckled and I fell to the floor.” Harry's stopped crying and his voice is quite steady, but distant and full of emotions.

“Oh, Haz.” Louis softly kisses the side of his head and squeezes his eyes shut, trying to transfer all his love and support from his body to Harry's.

Suddenly, Harry starts to cry again with long, snotty sobs. “I feel pathetic.”

“Why?”

“Because I can't even stand on my own damn legs. I just lay in my own vomit.” His voice echoes disgust and shame as he rubs his nose clean against Louis' shoulder.

Louis wipes some hair from Harry's forehead, and he just now realizes how hot he is and how much he's sweating.

“Babe, it's okay. Come on, we're going to take a shower and then I'm going to put you to bed.”

The heart monitor is attached to Harry with a clip on his finger, and Louis removes it to free him. He stands up first and then leans forward to pick up the little mess that is Harry, knowing that this won't be a funny memory like the time he tried to carry him up the stairs. This isn't some drunken story, this is serious and tragic.

Harry lets his arms hang over Louis' shoulders as Louis lifts him by his legs and back, and it's just like their wedding day, only then it was the other way around. And they weren't in hospital pajamas and jeans and covered in vomit. There is still something romantic about it, and Louis takes his time, humming softly in Harry's ear as he slowly makes his way to the bathroom.

The shower is one of those big ones that wheelchairs fit in, and Louis pulls the curtain aside. Standing next to the sink is a stool, and he puts that in the shower for Harry to sit on. He first quickly takes off his own clothes and then removes Harry's pajamas and underpants – slowly and gentle, like he's fragile, which in a way he is. After Louis turns on the shower, he squats down in front of Harry and lets him rest his head against his shoulder. He strokes Harry's back, making sure the water reaches every spot of his body, and asks, “Is it too hot?”

Harry slowly shakes his head against Louis' neck in reply, and Louis cups the back it with his hand.

After ten minutes of sitting like that, Louis squirts some shower gel on a washing cloth and moves it over Harry's body. He doesn't use too much pressure, but lets the cloth slide over his bare skin. Harry groans very softly, letting Louis know that he likes it. When he's done with Harry's body, Louis uses the cloth to wash his own. The water washes away the soap, and Louis grabs a shampoo bottle. He presses himself up and moves around Harry to stand behind him, his hand never leaving Harry's shoulder to support him. Harry leans back against Louis' stomach as he starts washing his hair. Louis' hands make slow motions, using just enough pressure to massage Harry's head. Harry closes his eyes and Louis watches the tension flow out of his body, into the gulley along with the water.

When he's sure that he's rinsed all of the shampoo out of Harry's hair, he quickly washes his own. After that, he turns off the water and grabs two towels from the rack hanging at the far end of the shower – one for Harry, and one for himself. He wraps one around his waist, and uses the other to rub Harry's hair until it's damp instead of wet. Leaning forward, he uses the same towel to dry Harry's body – first his shoulders, than his back, his stomach, his arms, his thighs, his legs, and his feet.

He finishes within minutes and then asks, “Can you sit without my support? I have to go back to the room to get you clean pajamas.” Because Harry nods and smiles faintly, Louis quickly dries himself off, and then walks out of the bathroom and opens the cupboard standing opposite Harry's bed. There are a few pajamas and some underpants on the shelf, and he grabs a pair of both for Harry, and a pair of pajamas for himself because his clothes are still dirty from Harry's vomit. He closes the cupboard and when he's back in the bathroom, he's relieved to see Harry still sitting on the stool. It seems to be hard for him, though, because he's leaning forward with his forearms on his legs and he seems to be shaking.

“Almost ready for bed,” Louis says smiling. Harry tries to smile back, but every movement seems to require more energy than his body offers.

Louis dresses Harry quickly, trying not to hurt him in the process, and he's reminded of when the twins were still babies. He got used to it soon enough, but when they just had him, he was always scared to change their little clothes. To him babies just look like they could break any second, and he was always a little extra careful when he pulled their arms and legs through the sleeves and pipes.

With Harry all dressed, he puts his own underpants on, and then grabs the pair of pajamas. They're Harry's and therefore too big for Louis, so he rolls up the ends and immediately feels at home. He quickly brushes Harry's teeth and tongue, no longer allowing the bitter taste of vomit to linger in his mouth.

Harry wraps his arms around Louis' neck so that he can pick him up again and carry him back into the room. Louis walks over to the bed that was rolled in for him last night, because Harry's sheets are covered in tube feeding. He pulls back the sheet, and lays Harry down on the mattress. After covering him up, he kisses his lips and strokes his hair.

“I'm going to clean up the mess and then I'll come lie with you. Just go to sleep if you want.”

Harry already has his eyes closed, but he opens them shortly to look at Louis, letting a tear escape from the corner of his eye, when he whispers, “Thank you, Lou.”

Louis finds a mop and a bucket in the closet standing next to the door that he uses to clean up the puddle of vomit. After he puts them back, he grabs a vase from the cabinet under the sink to hang the feeding tube in. He then pulls the sheets off of Harry's bed and takes them outside of the room. A couple of meters down the hall he sees one of those huge laundry hampers on wheels, and he throws the sheets in it. He then looks for a nurse and finds the one who first told him that Harry could be waking up from his coma.

“Excuse me,” he says when he reaches her.

She laughs when she sees him and says, “Interesting outfit.”

He blushes as he looks down at the pajamas hanging loosely around his body and feels like a kid. As much as he liked feeling small in Harry's large pajamas, he now feels a bit ashamed.

“Yeah, we had an accident that I'd like to talk about,” he tells her.

“An accident?” she repeats as she puts the file she's holding on the counter behind her and turns back to Louis.

He nods and explains, “Harry had a bit of a panic attack, I guess, and he rolled off his bed to throw up. His feeding tube was pulled out of his nose during the fall, and I was wondering if that could have done any harm.”

“He threw up after the tube was pulled out?” she asks concerned.

“I think so, I wasn't there, I found him lying on the floor in his vomit.”

She nods. “Well, because his vomit's on the floor it sounds like it was pulled out before he threw up, which is good, because then it's unlikely that any of the tube feeding got into his longs.”

Louis ignores her statement and asks, “Do we have to put the tube back in?” Putting it in while Harry was in his coma was one thing, but he can't imagine it's much comfortable to do so with him awake.

“Not necessarily. I think it's a good opportunity to see how his body reacts to solid food. We could always put the tube back in later. I'll discuss it with Doctor Sawyer, yeah? What did you do when you found him?”

Louis crosses his arms over his chest and leans against the counter. “I gave him a shower, put him in some clean pajamas and put him in the other bed. I think he's asleep now. Then I cleaned the floor and threw the dirty sheets in the laundry. I put the feeding tube in a vase.” When she just smiles at him without saying anything, he shrugs like there's nothing special about what he just told her and says, “What?”

She smiles even wider, now showing her teeth. “You're a good husband, you know that?”

Thinking about this for a moment and smiles back. “I hope so.”

“I'll send someone in to make Harry's bed and check up on him. I'd tell you to keep an eye on him, but it sounds like you've got everything under control.”

They smile at each other before they say their goodbyes and both go their own way. Louis slips back into Harry's room – he indeed seems to be asleep. Trying to make as little sound as possible, Louis takes off the pajama shirt, and climbs into bed next to Harry. For some reason, the touch of Harry's arm against his bare chest gives him goosebumps. He shifts a little closer to him, and now most of their bodies are touching. Breathing him in as much as he can Louis feels the butterflies flutter in his stomach, and it feels so good that it's almost nauseating.

“Hey,” Harry says suddenly in a soft voice and Louis feels a smile creep onto his face.

“Did I wake you?” He gently kisses Harry's neck before he pressing his nose into it and taking in his smell. Hmm, Harry's smell.

“No, I wasn't really asleep or awake, I was somewhere in between.”

Harry wraps his arm around Louis' shoulders and they lie like that for a while. Slowly circling his fingers on Harry's arm, Louis tries to put as much in the touch as he can. He wants to tell Harry that he's here and that he's not going anywhere. He wants to tell him that he'll make sure he never falls again, and that he is sorry that he wasn't here when he did.

The serene silence ends when Harry sighs and whispers, “How could this have happened?”

“I don't know.” Louis repositions himself so that he can look up at Harry, but his fingers keep moving. His eyes are a dark green, darker than usual, and there's a sadness deep inside of them.

“The thing is,” Harry says, looking down to meet Louis' gaze – letting green lock with blue. “That I have no idea how to get through this, and you had to do it by yourself. How did you survive?”

“I'm not sure I did,” Louis admits.

Harry strokes Louis' hair as he asks him to describe what it was like without him, and Louis sighs deeply, trying to think of a way to put his feelings into words. “To be honest, I felt like I was in the ocean and the waves kept trying to pull me under, and you weren't there to pull me up.” He swallows the lump in his throat, and he can feel Harry do the same. “I have to admit I've thought about really going in once or twice.”

“To do what?” Harry's whisper gives away that he already knows the answer, and Louis is sorry to confirm it when he says, “'To let the waves take me under.”

“What stopped you?”

“Hope.” Louis tilts his head a little further and shrugs.

“Hope that you would come back to me one day. And James, of course. I couldn't leave him behind. But there have been times when I was really selfish and I didn't think about him enough. I can't tell you how sorry I am for that. You both deserve better than my selfish ways.” Louis lowers his head in shame, leaving Harry's gaze, but Harry holds him a little tighter and says, “I understand.”

Louis tries to ignore the emotions rushing through his body, focusing solely on the feeling of being in Harry's arms. He figures that this was how James felt a couple of weeks ago when Louis brought him back his purple monkey after he'd lost it on the beach.

“Lou?”

“Hm?”

“Do you think I could have saved him?”

Louis rubs his eyes as he thinks about an answer to Harry's question. Shaking his head he says, “No, I don't think so. You did the best you could trying to make your way over to him, but you passed out from the smoke.” When Harry stays quiet, he continues. “I used to think that I could have done more, if I hadn't taken so long with James, but now I think that I would have passed out too. There was nothing that could have saved him.”

“James is okay, though, right?” Harry suddenly sounds worried and he pulls away a bit to look at Louis.

“James is perfect.” Louis smiles at the thought of him and wonders what he's doing right now. Maybe he's still at the mall with Liam.

“Okay, good.” Harry relaxes and pulls Louis closer again before he tilts his head as he remembers something. “You said something about Liam and Zayn last night, what did you mean?”

“Because I wasn't doing very well – without you, and all – Niall thought it was a good idea to have them come here, so he called them and they arrived two days later.” Louis smiles, still grateful for his friends. “They've been here for about a week now.”

“That's nice.” At the sound of his voice, Louis can tell that Harry's eyes are closed and he smiles again, struck by the realization of how well he actually knows him. “How are they?”

“Hm, I'd say okay, but I'm not sure. Liam is getting a divorce.”

“Really?'

“Yeah, Sophia says he's not the man he used to be, or something. Zayn's not sure he wants to stay with Perrie, either.”

“Hm. I don't think I could ever divorce you,” Harry says and squeezes Louis' shoulder. “Is Niall still single?”

Louis giggles. “Yeah.”

“Well, at least some things never change.” Harry laughs his low, kind laugh.

The door swings open and Doctor Sawyer walks in, along with a nurse who's carrying a set of clean sheets. As the latter walks over to the empty bed to make it, Doctor Sawyer laughs at the sight of Harry and Louis in bed together. “Inseparable,” she says shaking her head. “How are we today, Harry? Heard you had a little accident.”

“You mean the one with the fire and my almost death?” he replies in a tired voice.

Doctor Sawyer laughs softly, clearly unsure whether she should. “No, I mean the one this morning. You fell out of bed and threw up?”

“Yeah, I pushed the button but no one came to help me, what is that about?” He sounds annoyed, but, in a way that only Harry knows how, remains to sound friendly.

“I am very sorry about that.” Doctor Sawyer's cheeks turn red and she quickly looks away. “Did you hurt anything?”

Harry shakes his head. “No, I don't think so.”

“Good. I wasn't surprised to hear that Louis took good care of you. Thank you for that, Louis.”

Louis nods in gratitude with his eyes closed, his head still resting on Harry's shoulder, who kisses the top of his head.

Doctor Sawyer smiles endeared before she says, “We're taking the feeding tube away for now, and I'd like to see you eat some solid food later. Are you up for that?” Harry nods. “Great! We'll leave you two lovebirds alone for now. Louis, please remember that Harry needs his sleep. And lots of water.”

Harry giggles slowly and says, “I've always slept best with him by my side, so don't worry. Besides, I think he'll be asleep within five minutes himself.”

Louis groans softly in protest, but Harry's right. He got so little sleep last night that he's exhausted. The warmth of Harry's

body against his bare chest doesn't help, either, but there's nowhere he'd rather be.

Doctor Sawyer laughs again, says, “Bye, guys,” and leaves the room together with the nurse.

As soon as they're gone, Harry rests his head against Louis' and with the sound of Louis' snoring as his lullaby, he falls asleep.

 

**· · · · · · · ·**

 

It's two in the afternoon when Louis wakes up. Apparently him and Harry switched places in their sleep, because Harry's head is now on Louis' shoulder – vastly sleeping. Louis softly kisses his forehead and looks around for his phone. When he can't find it, he figures it's still in the back pocket of his jeans, so he gently moves Harry from his shoulder to the mattress, and slips out of the bed. He tiptoes across the room and through the bathroom door, closing it behind him.

His jeans are on the floor, so he squats down to grab his phone, trying not to touch the damp stains on the fabric. Unlocking his phone with a slide of his thumb, he sits down on the toilet lid to see that he has 16 missed calls – four from Niall, two from Zayn, and ten from Anne. He decides to call the latter first, and tells her that everything is fine. He doesn't mention Harry's fall from before, because he doesn't want her to worry. Harry seems to be okay now, so there is no use in bringing it up. She tells him that she'll stop by at the hospital that night, together with Gemma and Robin.

When she hangs up the phone, Louis calls Niall, who answers immediately. He was worried about Harry after they found him lying on the floor that morning, and when Louis wouldn't answer his phone, he thought something was seriously wrong. Apparently, Niall is at the house with James, Zayn and Liam, so he tells them what happened as Louis explains it, repeating every word. Louis asks him if James is there, because he doesn't want him to hear such stories about his father, but he's playing on the back porch – of course he is. When Niall asks if they can come to the hospital – all four of them – Louis hesitates, but eventually says they can. He gives Niall a list of things to bring – clean clothes, underwear, and a toothbrush.

Louis sneaks back into the room and grabs two glasses from the counter to fill them with water. When he slips back in the bed, Harry wakes up with a yawn. He takes one of the glasses from Louis, and finishes it at once.

“Thirsty?” Louis laughs. Harry nods, but the look in his eyes tells Louis that he's not thirsty for water. He lets him kiss him, but when Harry's hand slides down his stomach and into his pajama pants, he pulls it away. “Haz, what are you doing?”

“I'm not going to do anything,” Harry whispers into Louis' neck as he tries to slip his hand down Louis' pants again. “I just want to feel it.”

Louis turns away and swings his legs over the edge of the bed, sitting up. Harry straightens himself to sit behind him, and lays his big hands on Louis' shoulders to massage them. The feeling of Harry's hands on his body turns Louis on, but he can't help but feel weird about it.

“What's wrong, Lou?” Harry strokes a strand of hair on Louis' neck aside before he kisses the spot that he knows Louis can't resist, but Louis pulls away again.

“I just don't get it.” Louis turns around to face Harry, laying one leg on the bed and folding it beneath him. “You were a total wreck just hours ago and now you want to... touch me.”

“I know.” Harry tries to end the conversation by leaning in to kiss his husband, but Louis lays his hand on Harry's chest to stop him again.

“I expected you to be devastated after I told you about William, not to be trying to have sex with me–”

“I'm not trying to have sex with you.” Harry tries to look offended, but his grin gives him away.

“You kissed my soft spot. It may have been over five months, but I still know what you do to turn me on.” He can't help but grin back before his expression turns back to serious again. “Really, Harry, why aren't you heartbroken?”

“Believe me, I am.” Harry sighs and rushes one hand through his hair, while he holds Louis' on his chest with the other as he lays back down. “I feel like I'm drunk. Like, I want to laugh and cry at the same time. I want to punch you – even though I'm not mad at you, I swear – and cuddle you and have sex with you.

All at the same time. It's like I'm on an emotional roller coaster ride. I'm not quite sure how to feel, because of course I'm extremely sad and angry about what happened to William, but at the same time I'm so happy to be with you again and to know that you and James are okay. To be honest, I feel like I'm falling in love with you all over again and that gives me so much energy. I guess the sadness will kick in once we're back home and I'm used to being with you again. Everything's just quite surreal still. I just– I don't–”

Harry stops talking to let out a desperate sob and Louis pulls him in close. “Shh, I know, baby.” He twists his curls around his fingers as he lets Harry's words sink in.

When Harry seems to have calmed down a bit, Louis asks in a soft voice, “What was it like? Like, did you miss me, or anything? Were you able to think at all?”

Harry rests his chin on Louis' shoulder shortly before answering. He sighs and says, “It was kind of like I was dreaming, so I'm not sure what really happened and what didn't. I remember knowing that you were with me and that I couldn't say or do anything to let you know that I knew. It was very frustrating.”

Louis nods again, blinking at Harry and taking deep breaths. Suddenly, his lower lip starts to tremble and tears start forming in his eyes. _It's too much_ , he thinks. William, Harry, it's too much. He can't handle it. He's not sure what's worse – just being gone forever, or being somewhere in between and not being able to respond to the people around you.

Closing his eyes he tries to imagine what it's like – knowing that Harry is near, hearing him talk to him, and reaching out without ever touching him, and he can't. Harry is right there and he can see him and touch him and speak to him if he wants to. He'll never understand.

Harry lets go of Louis' hand and moves his own to Louis' cheek, stroking it with his thumb. “Sweetie, there's no need to cry. I'm here now, and I'm not planning on leaving you again.”

“I know. I– I–” Air doesn't reach his longs as he tries to breathe, helplessly gasping. After trying for about six times, he finally feels his longs fill up again ans his gasp become less frequent again.

“Do you want me to call a doctor?” Harry asks with big green eyes, filled with worry.

Louis furrows his brow as he shakes his head and wipes the tears from his eyes before they get the chance to roll down. “I have a surprise for you,” he says in an attempt to distract himself.

“You're going to fuck me?” Harry grins, but in a soft way and Louis giggles because that's what Harry does – making stupid, silly jokes when Louis' sad. That or hug the living shit out of him.

“Haz, stop,” Louis giggles as he wipes his nose clean with the back of his hand. “I will, soon, but not in such a creepy place as a hospital.”

“Quite kinky, though, knowing that a nurse could walk in at any time. He or she might want to join us.” Harry wiggles his eyebrows and they both laugh. “No, really, what's the surprise?”

“Niall's on his way here.” When Harry's face lights up, Louis adds, “With Zayn, Liam and... James.”

Harry looks at his hand as it strokes Louis' thigh and smiles. “I don't understand why, but that is a surprise. It was bound to happen soon, but my heart just skipped a beat. I can't wait to see them.”

“Are you sure it's not too much?” Louis asks after sniffing one last time. “I could ask Liam and Zayn to come some other time.”

Harry shakes his head quickly and smiles like an idiot. “No, I want to see them. All of them.”

Louis smiles back, and he suddenly throws himself on top of Harry, who puffs laughing when Louis lands on him. They wrap their arms around each other and start to kiss – first just short pecks but then tongues slipping in and out – but they stop when they hear the door open and Niall's Irish accent fill the room as he says, “Zayn, cover James' eyes, they are doing something kids do not want to see.”

“Daddy!” James wrestles himself free from Zayn's arms and runs over to the bed, where Louis quickly jumps down and puts on the pajama shirt that he threw on the floor earlier.

“James.” Tears start streaming down Harry's face as soon as he hears his little voice. The boy tries to climb on the bed but fails, so Louis lifts him and hands him over to Harry. James wraps his little arms around Harry's neck as Harry holds him tight, sobbing loud.

“Oh, I've missed you. Why are you so big?” Harry asks in between sobs. “I was only gone for five months.”

“I am three now, Daddy!” James pulls away a bit and proudly puts three fingers in the air like Niall taught him. Everyone in the room laughs, but they are all soft laughs, muted by tears.

“Yes, you are,” Harry laughs and repeats, “Yes, you are.”

It's a relief to Louis to see them together, but it also stings. It's a cold sting, punching at his heart slowly, and he tries to ignore it and keep a smile on his face. The thing is, he feels like there are little weights hanging from the corners of his mouth, pulling them down. He catches Niall looking at him at his side, but chooses to ignore his eyes and keep his own fixed on his little reunited yet broken family.

Niall takes a few steps closer to where Louis is standing, though, and moves in to hug him. Louis accepts his embrace and hooks his chin over his shoulder. He's ashamed, but he's glad that no one can see his face as he finally allows himself to stop smiling for just a second and squeeze his eyes shut.

It's probably not right that he isn't happy, but he can't help himself. The sting at his heart has expanded and is now clenching his chest, and he feels almost claustrophobic. If someone were to ask him what's wrong, he wouldn't even know what to say. He asks himself, actually, because he doesn't understand why he isn't just _happy._ No explanation comes to mind, but the clenching feeling stays, and he glues the smile back on his face just in time for Niall not to notice it as he takes a step back.

He looks goofy and sweet with his blonde quiff as he takes Louis' face in both his hands and says, “It will all be alright now.”

Louis nods and safely hides in their next embrace.

“Do you know what Daddy got me for my birthday?” he hears James ask Harry in a happy voice. It's been three and a half months since his birthday, but that was one of the hardest days for him. He didn't understand why Harry and William weren't there to celebrate it with him, so maybe now he feels like they can make up for it. Louis feels like it's the start of making up for a lot of things, and he's not sure he's ready and neither as to why that is.

“No, but I'm sure it's something great,” Harry says as he wipes some of the tears from his face, even though he's still crying.

“He got me a pedal car!”

Louis can't help but laugh and tear up at the same time, because he's full of all kinds of emotions. Apparently Harry is too, because he laughs with a shaky voice when he says, “That is awesome, Jay.”

“Yes,” James agrees. “And a big bed because I'm a big boy now, but Batman thinks I'm still very little.” His voice drops a bit at the end of the sentence, and Harry looks confused. “Who's Batman?” he asks.

“That would be me.” Zayn raises his hand with a face that reads 'guilty', and they all giggle – James included.

“I'll get to you in a bit,” Harry says to Zayn. “But I want to talk to this Irish fella first.”

Niall keeps his head low as he walks over to the side of his bed and gives Harry a short but tight hug. “Hey, man,” he whispers as he pulls back.

“Hi.” Harry smiles softly. “I'm sure you've taken good care of my man.”

Louis is not sure why Niall blushes as he says, “I've tried to,” so he chimes in, “You have, Ni. You've been a great friend.” He pats him on the back before he spins around to face Liam and Zayn. “Speaking of great friends, move a bit closer, lads.”

They've been standing in the corner of the room, trying to give Harry room to reunite with his family and Niall, but now that Louis invites them, they gladly cross the room to the bed.

Niall's eyes move up and down over the side of Louis' face, and Louis knows that he's on to him. He should better prepare himself now for the questions he's going to get later, because Niall is not an easy one to fool. Never has been. Louis knows him just as well as Niall knows Louis, but he's not as curious and just lets him do his own. He'll come to me if he needs something, is Louis' theory. It's always been Niall's as well, until Harry was out of the picture and Niall somehow started to feel responsible for Louis' well-being.

“Hey Hazza, how are you?” Zayn says as he moves in closer.

“We've missed you, man.” Liam lays his hand on Harry's shoulder and squeezes it briefly. “I'm sorry it took us an accident to realize that.”

Harry opens his arms and hugs them one at a time as he says, “It's okay. Everything's okay,” and Louis knows that he means it. Harry isn't like Louis. He just doesn't hold grudges. If you'd take it back to kindergarten, Harry would let you play with his toys again as soon as you apologize, and never mention it again. Louis would be the kid that ignores you for the rest of your childhood, and in the worst case scenario periodically reminds you that you've wronged him.

It's times like this that Louis wishes he could be more like Harry. He's thankful that Zayn and Liam are here, but he can't fool even himself into thinking that he isn't still somewhat sour about the whole situation. He'll make sure not to show it, though, for Harry and James' sake.

When he clears his throat, he notices that everyone in the room is looking at him, and Harry's frowning slightly, so he fakes a grin and says, “I just can't wait to take him home.”

“Someone's being impatient,” Zayn laughs at Louis, and apparently he's managed to keep his voice steady, because the line between Harry's brows disappears.

“Yeah, what do you think?” Louis continues the facade. “It's been quiet around the house without him, I can't wait for him to boss me around again.”

“Hey,” Harry says a little offended. “I don't boss you around.”

That makes Louis laugh for real and he says, “Yeah, Haz, you kind of do. But I love you for it, don't worry.” He winks and Harry blushes.

“Oh Lou, before I forget,” Niall says suddenly. “Here's the bag of clothes you requested. I put a razor in there too. I'm not looking forward to another return of the Yeti like the past weeks.”

Sounding a bit worried, Harry asks, “Was he that bad?”

“It wasn't that bad,” Louis says before Niall can answer and he throws him a hand gesture that says 'shut up' before turning back to Harry. “I just didn't take very good care of my looks because there wasn't anyone I had to look good for.”

“Nice save.” Niall grins as he hands the bag over to Louis, and to the untrained eye it probably looks sincere. Not to Louis, though. He notices the way he shortly squints his eyes and the way he tilts his head as he gives him the bag.

Usually it's nice – that they know each other this well. They don't need much to know what the other means, which makes their communication effortless. Right now it's annoying, though. Louis doesn't know why he's feeling the way he does, and he isn't looking forward to justifying his reasons – as far as he has any.

It isn't just Niall, though. If it wasn't for being preoccupied by James, Harry would notice his odd behavior too. Even though Niall comes close, Harry will always know him best. Sometimes Louis thinks he even knows him better than his mother, which says a lot. His face is an open book to the people who know him well enough to read it, but he's quite good at keeping his voice steady – his pokervoice, as he likes to call it. After a huge fight with Harry about him not paying enough attention to their household and spending all his time playing with the twins and hanging out with Niall while Harry runs things, he managed to chitchat with his mum on the phone for an hour without her catching on even though he was fuming. That didn't go so well that time Harry called him right after he'd dropped James on his head at the playground. Sure, maybe he was panicking a bit during that conversation and didn't pay enough attention to his 'pokervoice', but Harry would still have noticed something was off if he had. He just knows him so well that it's almost scary.

So, Louis is glad when Harry just smiles lovingly at him as he sneaks into the bathroom, where he drops the bag on the floor and lets out a loud sigh. Or five.

 

Once he's finally exchanged Harry's pajamas for the clothes that Niall brought him – a black pair of skinny jeans and a gray baseball tee with black sleeves – Louis sits down on the toilet lid to gather his thoughts. Even though he lost sight of James' feelings at some point, he used to dream of him and Harry being reunited, and now that it's happened, he can't seem to believe or understand that it's real. Nothing seems real.

He feels like he's in a desert, so thirsty that he's starting to see pools of water. Maybe he misses Harry so much, that he is his water in the lonely desert that his life has become. Maybe he didn't hold Harry, but the palm trees of his oasis. He's afraid that when he opens the bathroom door, he'll see nothing but quicksand, ready to swallow him up.

The thing is that all this time he thought that things would go back to normal once Harry woke up, and he now realizes that they're not. It reminds him of how he used to feel when he was still in school. He'd always make all these plans for the Summer holidays and expect those few weeks to be the best of the entire year, but they never turned out to be as fun as he'd hoped they would be. The weather was never as good as predicted, and his plans were never fully executed. In fact he always muddled through those weeks just like any of the others.

His thoughts are interrupted by a knock on the door, and when he opens it he sees Niall holding a hysterical James. Louis takes his boy in his arms and looks at Niall with questioning eyes.

Closing the door Niall says, “He started crying when he realized you were gone. Harry tried to comfort him, but he kept saying he wanted you.”

“Oh boy,” Louis says, because he really doesn't need another reason to feel suffocated. It's nice to know that his son needs him, of course, but still. With James' head pressed against his shoulder Louis rocks back and forth to calm him down. After making some hushing noises to James he asks, “How is Harry?”

Niall shrugs. “I think he's a bit shocked and sad, but he understands.”

Louis nods and then turns to James. “Why all the tears, Jimmy Jam?” He wipes some of James' curls from his forehead and presses his lips against the now visible skin.

“Daddy was gone.” James' voice is shaky, and he just manages to get the words out in between loud snotty sobs.

“But your other daddy was with you, right?” Louis sighs. “And when you were with Zayn and Liam last night and this morning, you were fine then.”

James' sobs become softer and he blinks up at Louis through watery eyes. “I guess so.”

“I think it's just the vibe of the hospital and Harry being awake,” Niall suggests. “He has to get used to it again.”

Louis rubs James' belly. “Is that it, baby?” When James nods as his answer, Louis kisses his forehead again and says, “Okay, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have left you.”

James buries his face in Louis' neck as he holds him tight, and part of Louis does feel sorry, but at the same time he hopes that this situation isn't going to last long.

“Now that we're alone,” Niall says to Louis as he leans back against the door and crosses his arms over his chest. “How are you?”

Louis shrugs. “I'm fine.”

“No, you're not. I know you well enough to not buy that crap.”

“Then why do you ask?” Louis hears the annoyance in his own voice, because okay, he might not be good at hiding his emotions to Niall, but he didn't have to confront him this soon.

“Because I wanted to give you a chance to be honest with me.” Niall sighs as he rubs his hand down his face, like he's trying to prepare himself. “What's wrong?”

Louis shrugs again and says, “Again, nothing's wrong.”

He presses his nose in James' hair hoping that Niall will leave it at that, but he obviously doesn't, because he repeats, “What is wrong?”

Sighing clearly annoyed because what else can he do, Louis says, “If you must know, you annoying prick, what is wrong is that I'm terrified.”

Niall frowns. “Why? I mean, Harry's doing great, right?”

“Yeah, but...” Louis looks down at the boy in his arms. “Can we not discuss this with him in the room?”

“Fine, but we're going to talk about this later.”

Starting to get seriously pissed off, Louis states, “You know, Liam and Zayn are a lot easier on me.”

“Well, they weren't here to pick up the pieces when you were miserable. They don't see what's going on.”

Louis rolls his eyes at that. “Nothing's going on!”

Just as irritated as Louis is, Niall shakes his head as if he's ready to give up on him, and Louis didn't think he would be this soon. That's another thing about Louis that no one – including himself – can stand; he hates it when people are on his back, but he's offended when they're not. Harry's compared him to teenage girls before, and Louis can't deny the comparison.

“Great, your wall's back up,” Niall says. “Congratulations, Lou. You want to go through this on your own again? Be my guest. But Harry needs you, and James needs you.” He stares at Louis with big blue eyes, filled with different emotions – anger, sadness, and helplessness. “You were finally becoming the great man that I once knew again. I understand why you let him slip away the last time, but why now? I meant it when I said that I'm proud of you this morning, I really did, so _why_ now?”

Louis is pinned to the ground, having no idea what to do or say. James seems to be unaware of the argument, though, as he plays with the strands of hair in his father's neck. Louis is not entirely sure why he says, “Ni, I'm sorry,” when Niall turns around to open the door behind him.

Niall shakes his head again before he turns it to Louis. “Don't apologize to me. Apologize to that little boy in your arms, because watching you fall apart was hard for me, but you're his entire world, and you know it.”

When Niall leaves the room, Louis quickly swallows the lump in his throat and follows him. He doesn't want Harry or the other boys to know what just happened – what even happened?

He's mad at himself for not being able to be strong and he hates that Niall sees it. The last thing he wants to happen is for Harry to see it too, so he buries his face in James' curls and pretends to cuddle him.

“Is he okay?” Harry asks when he sees James, and he still seems to be a bit sad.

Niall looks at Louis with cold eyes and before Louis can answer, he says, “Yeah, he's fine.”

Louis shakes his head slightly against James' head with a pleading look in his eyes, begging Niall to not say any more.

As if he actually cares about Louis' wants right now, Niall grabs his jacket from one of the chairs and says, “The air in this place doesn't move, for Christ's sake. I'm going for a walk.”

Questioning eyes follow him as he makes his way to the door. In a shaky voice, Louis asks if he wants him to come with him, but with a short and sarcastic 'no', Niall leaves them guessing.

 

**· · · · · · · ·**

 

It takes Louis quite some time to convince James that he will be fine without him, but after assuring him that he is only a phone call away, Louis hurries to the elevator. Niall may have said that he didn't want Louis to come, but they need to talk, so Louis pushes the button to close the door five times before it finally does.

Running away from arguments is usually his job, but now that it's the other way around, he realizes how bloody annoying it is. Sure, he may have been the one who said that they shouldn't have the conversation in front of James, but they could have gone outside together and talked things over like the grown ups they're supposed to be.

Finding Niall turns out to be a lot easier than Louis expected, because he's sitting on one of the many chairs near the sliding doors, his hands squeezing his jacket. Louis walks over to him and sits down, without Niall looking up once. Here goes nothing.

Trying to break the tension, Louis says, “I thought you were going for a walk.”

“I can't. Bloody paparazzi,” Niall says with his gaze still fixed on the wall opposite them.

Louis inhales deeply before he opens his mouth again, because everything about Niall's posture tells him this is not going to be a fun conversation – his shoulders are pulled up high, and his nostrils flutter from his fast breathing.

“Ni, I know that I'm not the best version of myself right now, but why are you so mad at me?”

Shaking his head, Niall lowers it to look at the ground beneath his shoes. When he finally speaks, his voice is surprisingly calm, and Louis doesn't know what to think of that. “For months, all you wanted was for Harry to wake up,” Niall says. “But now that he has, you're still miserable, and I don't get it. You've got everything you wanted, why can't you just appreciate it?”

“I'm not miserable,” Louis says and his eyes never leave the side of Niall's face as he does so. “But Harry is nowhere near the person he used to be and I'll never get William back, so no. I don't have everything I wanted.” He realizes the last part comes out a little sharper than he intended it to, but he'll be damned if he apologizes right now.

Niall straightens himself and turns his head so fast that it startles Louis. “You're not the only one who misses William, Louis,” he half-shouts. “Realize that. And Harry seems pretty much the same to me.”

“Yeah well, you're not the one who'll have to take him home and take care of him.”

Out of the blue, Niall throws his jacket on the floor, which causes a couple of people in the hallway to look at them. With his index finger pointed to the side of his head head he says, “Are you really that fucking selfish? Because none of what you're saying right now sounds like my best friend.” He lowers his finger and now points it to his chest. “The one I love. The one who loves his family unconditionally and makes sure nothing happens to them and takes care of them when it does. My best friend doesn't hide in excuses when things get hard.”

Louis speaks in a lower voice than Niall's, trying to draw the attention away from them. “Would you calm down, for fuck's sake? You don't understand.”

“Don't tell me I don't understand,” Niall says, and he still sounds pissed, but at least he keeps his volume down this time. “Don't _ever_ tell me I don't understand.”

Louis throws his hands up in the air before letting them smack down on his thighs. “I'm not saying it to be mean, Niall. It's just, you don't–”

Niall cuts him off. “I think I know what you're about to say, and you're right – I don't have a wife or a husband, and I don't have any children, so I don't know what it's like to lose them.”

He's right, that is what Louis was going to say.

“I do know James, though,” he continues. I've watched him grow up, and I've tried to take care of him when you couldn't and that's fine. It's fine that you couldn't, and I did it with love, really. But I _know_ him and I know that he does not deserve to be treated the way you're treating him right now.”

“What am I doing wrong, hm?” Louis asks. “According to you, because you seem to value your own opinion quite a lot. Have I not been keeping a roof over his head? Do I not hold him when he has one of his nightmares? Don't I–”

Niall interrupts him again as he stands up, and he's really getting on Louis' last nerve.

“Oh, fuck you if you think that that's what this is about. You know it's not.” Niall says as he paces back and forth in front of Louis. He's quiet for a while, and just as Louis opens his mouth again, he spins around. “Fuck, Lou, you are the most important person in his life. You're his role model. That boy that I know you love is over the moon to have his dad back, and for some reason that I can't understand for the life of me you keep acting like things still aren't okay!” He stops talking to pick his jacket up off the floor, only to throw it on his chair, and Louis jumps up a bit at the sudden movement. “You kept telling him that things would be better if Harry woke up, and now all you're showing him is that they're not.”

When Niall takes a deep breath, Louis uses the opportunity to say, “He's three years old, I'm pretty sure he doesn't notice when I smile just a little bit different than I usually do.”

“He's not stupid, Louis,” Niall hisses as he sits down on top of his jacket and then pushes himself up angrily to pull it out from under him. “God, I know you love him, but you have a shit way of showing it.”

Louis shakes his head and shifts in his chair to face Niall. Who does he even think he is? Telling him what to do?

“Am I not allowed to take some time to get used to this, to Harry?” Louis asks sincerely.

“Sure, take all the time you need, just don't do it in front of James, for fuck's sake.”

“You know, you have a lot to say for someone who–” Louis swallows the last part because it's not fair, what he wants to say, but when Niall tells him to finish he says, “Someone who's never tried to love anyone.”

Niall moves his jaw up and down, looking a bit like a fish on land, before he laughs almost manically, and Louis is done caring for now. He's going to tell him exactly what he thinks, since apparently they're sharing honest, brutal opinions.

“Yeah, you love your friends. A lot,” he says. “But what about beyond that, hm? I've seen you go on a hundred dates, but I've never seen you try to make it work. You keep pointing out my

fears to me, but you know what? I think you're just as scared as I am – scared to love someone who could leave you.”

There. He's said it. He doesn't expect Niall to stay calm and agree, but he could never have expected his reaction. Niall jumps up, gets in front of Louis and places his hands on either sides of his chair. Louis leans back as Niall gets scary close.

“Yes, I am terrified,” he hisses, and Louis can feel his warm breath against his mouth. “And it's your fault.”

Louis didn't notice that he was holding his own breath until Niall moves back and he exhales. “How the hell is that my fault?” he says, and it's more of a whisper than anything.

He's not exactly mad, he's perplexed. Him and Niall have argued countless of times in the years that they've known each other, but Niall's never been like this. Louis' not scared, though, because he knows that Niall wouldn't hurt him. He just doesn't understand what's going on right now, doesn't have the slightest clue what he's done to bring this out of Niall – this side of him that he's never seen before.

“I have never gotten close to anyone because I watched you being so ridiculously scared to lose Harry for years with absolutely no reason to,” Niall explains in a hoarse voice as he sits back down. He's not quite calmed down, though, because he's moving his knees up and down restlessly. “You don't think I saw your worried eyes when Harry flirted with anyone? Hell, he wasn't even flirting, he was just being his charming self – the boy that you fell in love with, and you couldn't even watch him without being scared. All that's taught me is that no matter how good a relationship is, you'll still be afraid to lose it. Maybe even more so because then you've got more to lose. So thanks for that.”

“You can't blame me for that,” Louis says shaking his head, but Niall continues without even listening to him.

“Being trapped in fucking tour buses and hotel rooms with you guys made me decide to not ever let anyone get close enough to make me that terrified of absolutely everything. You two have always lived for each other and it's beautiful, but it's also suffocating.”

Louis shakes his head again once he's finished, and he hisses back, “Have you learned fuck all from everything that I've told you about our relationship? What I told Liam the other day? It's not like other relationships, Niall. Other people don't fall in love at that age and stay in a fucking closet for that long, and then have the entire world judge them when they finally break out. Besides, our relationship and marriage have been perfect ever since, so don't blame your own complexities on us.”

“You know,” Niall says completely ignoring Louis. “You always say that Harry was the one who couldn't wait to leave London, but I bet it was actually you. I bet you couldn't wait to move him out to LA and start your family here and keep him to yourself.”

The way Niall says it makes it sound like he's daring him. Daring Louis to say that it's not true, but maybe part of it is. Maybe Louis wanted to leave London and start a family here, but it wasn't his idea, and surely not for the reasons that Niall apparently thinks.

Louis' not going to give him the satisfaction of saying what he wants to hear and ignores the whole statement. Instead he says, “If this is your way of encouraging me to do better, you're doing an absolute shit job.”

“No, I'm trying to open your eyes, you twat,” Niall snaps.

For the next minutes – it feels about five to Louis – they just sit there without saying anything, empty and both looking a bit defeated. They just stare at the strangers passing by, wondering what happened to their loved ones for them to be at the hospital. It's a sad place – a hospital. With every breath Louis takes he's reminded of the weird smell that lingers there, and it makes him cringe when he thinks about it.

Nearby is the shop where they sell all the teddy bears and get-better-soon-cards and equally happy get-better-soon-balloons. He wonders what it's like to work there and have people buy overpriced crap for someone who's sick enough to be here. It feels wrong. The whole place feels wrong.

“I'm scared of what will happen to Harry,” Louis hears himself say without realizing he was speaking. For some reason he feels like he should explain why he's behaving the way he is, even though he's still pissed, and he guesses it's always been that way. He might have always been the one to run away from arguments with Niall, but he's also the one who ends up crawling back. Niall knows that, though, and he often uses it to his

advantage.

This time Niall sighs loudly as if trying to make clear that he's not actually interested but answering for the sake of the conversation, and Louis smiles a little at that.

“Why are you scared?” Niall asks in a worn out voice.

“I feel like he's in denial about William, and part of me understands, because I only told him this morning, but his mood went from thunder to sunshine. That can't be healthy. I'm afraid I'm nowhere near ready for what's coming.”

Niall suddenly gets up from his chair and throws his jacket over his shoulder, heading for the door, and Louis feels like a tit for opening up to him if he's just going to leave.

Just as sudden as he got up, Niall turns around and says, “Tell him that. Tell him what scares you. If I've learned one thing from being alone for all these years, it's that it's really fucking hard to deal with your fears alone. Realize how privileged you are to not have to.” He stares at Louis with the soft blue eyes that Louis knows before he turns away again. Walking towards the door he shouts, “Wipe that self pity off your face and go tell your man that you love him, because he's just as big of a knob as you are and he's most likely questioning himself, you dick.”

Louis smiles to himself as he watches him walk off, because yep, that's the Niall he knows and loves.


	11. Eleven

 

Eleven

**· · · · ֍ · · · ·**

 

Louis is reminded of a day many years ago as he lays here in Harry's arm. Sure, the bed was a lot bigger and it was snowing outside, but it was just as cozy.

It was the 23 rd  of December, and therefore one day before Christmas and Louis' birthday. Because both events happen to be on the same date – which isn't a coincidence, according to Harry – they always spent that day in Doncaster with Louis' family, and after the first two years, Harry's joined them.

Being away from London and surrounded by a dozen family members on the day itself, Harry wanted to do something special for his boyfriend on the day before. He had decorated their flat with as much Christmas ornaments as he could find while Louis was asleep the night before, and he'd made plans to make it the best pre-birthday ever.

Even though Louis hates ice skating – 'its cold and makes you fall on your arse, which I need for other things' – Harry thinks it's cute, and decided that that's what they were going to do that day. Of course that wasn't all he had planned, because that wouldn't have made it a whole lot of fun for Louis.

He would take him into London and to his favorite shops and let him buy everything he wanted. That might sound a bit useless, because even back then Louis had all the money he needed to buy everything he could ever want, but Harry knew Louis would appreciate it. Just like that time Harry bought him a new pair of Adidas sweats as a small surprise, and they ended up being the only ones Louis wore for the next three months.

After their little shopping spree, they would head home where Harry would cook him a fabulous meal while Louis watched his favorite TV shows, followed by hot coco and a Christmas movie in bed.

When Harry told the other boys about his plans, they laughed at him and asked him how long they'd been married, but it didn't matter. Not to Harry. Louis would throw a late birthday party in between Christmas and New Year's Eve like he always did, anyway. Harry knew that he would enjoy spending this night with just him, and he loved him for it.

His plans went to waste when Harry woke up on the morning of the 23 rd  to find their bed empty and Louis throwing up in the bathroom. It turned out he had food poisoning, and there was no way he could leave the apartment that day.

He felt like shit when Harry told him what he'd planned, but there was very little he could do. He could barely stand on his feet, let alone ice skates.

To their own surprise, it ended up being one of the best days they've ever shared. Skipping the skating, shopping and eating, they went straight to watching movies in bed. Harry brought the decorations from the living room to their bedroom, made Louis a huge pot of tea, and held him until he finally stopped trembling. They watched about four movies, and even though there was a lot less sex involved than Harry had planned, it was perfect.

Louis feels just like he did that day – minus the urge to throw up every five minutes – as he's safely curled up against Harry's side with his arm wrapped around his shoulder. Liam and Zayn left them to their own device as they took Niall and James home, and after Harry's family stopped by, they were happy to discover that the hospital broadcasts a movie channel onto their televisions.

They missed the first half of the romantic comedy they're watching discussing Louis' fallout with Niall instead, and Louis' had to explain what's going on three times because Harry keeps falling asleep, but it's still perfect. Louis wouldn't want it any other way.

He's pulled out of his perfect little bubble, though, when Harry says in an uncertain voice, “Lou?”

“Hm?” Louis presses his lips against Harry's collarbone briefly before shifting up a bit to look at him. Taken aback by the sadness in the green of Harry's eyes as he says, “You know, I've been thinking...”

Louis holds his chin between his thumb and index finger to make him face him. “What is it, H?”

Harry fidgets with the hem of Louis' shirt nervously. “It's just– I've got a very long way to go before I'm back to normal.” He pauses to take in a deep breath. “I guess I want you to know that I won't blame you if you don't stick around.”

Feeling his eyes widen and his throat thicken, it dawns on Louis that Niall was right. He's been an ass. Panic clenches around his heart again, but it's a different kind of panic than before. The last time his panic was fueled by fear and suffocation, but this time it's guilt.

Looking up at Harry he realizes how terrified and fragile he looks, and Louis hates himself for making him feel this way. The man that he loves so much is scared because of his inability to just explain how he feels. How pathetic is that?

“I have no idea what that girl is going on about,” Harry says as he points to the TV. “Because I keep thinking about your argument with Niall, and I keep thinking that maybe you don't deserve this, me, and I–”

Harry stops talking when his voice breaks and tears well up in his eyes, and Louis realizes that he should say something, anything to make this stop, but what?

Clumsily he whispers, “You think I don't deserve you?” He pushes himself up and leans on his elbow to have a better view at the little mess beside him that he needs to clean up. “Haz, it's the exact opposite. I know that you have a long way to go, and to be honest with you, that scares the living shit out of me. Not because I think that you're not worth it, but because I'm afraid that I won't be able to be what you need. I don't know how to be that.”

A single tear runs down the pale skin of Harry's cheek as he says, “But you've always been what I need. Just by being you,” and Louis' heart breaks a little at the honesty behind the slow, shaky words.

He nods quickly and wipes the tear from Harry's face with his thumb, pressing his lips where it lingers. Sitting back up he says, “The feeling's mutual, so why would I leave you? I am in no way under the impression that the next months are going to be easy, but I'll be here. I've been here for fourteen years and I will be here now.” I inhales deeply and adds, “I will always be here.”

It's a promise, a huge promise, and it's pressing against the fear that he felt earlier today. Didn't he promise Harry this when he married him, and made love to him, and kissed all equally beautiful parts of his body? All those kisses were promises and he's not about to break them, because Harry doesn't deserve that. Harry deserves all the love he has to offer him and probably even more.

Apparently it's not enough to convince him, because he shakes his head and furrows his eyebrows. “You've already wasted five months waiting for me, and I–”

Louis shuts his lips closed with his finger. “And every time I see your beautiful eyes or I hear your voice, I know that every second that I've waited for you was worth it. Don't think it was a waste.”

His eyes filled with tears, Harry nods at him, and Louis knows that he believes him. The worries seem to leave his body as he pulls Louis closer and kisses him, gently holding his face as he does so, and Louis smiles into the kiss.

He knows that Harry's not strong yet – he feels it in how his tongue moves a little slower than usual and the way his arms hold him a little looser – but he has faith that it will come back to him. He will try to help him find it and he'll discover how to go about that as they go. It will work.

Harry gives him one last peck before he fulls away and falls back in his pillow. He smiles at Louis and says, “I'm glad it happened to me and not you, though.”

“Why'd you say that?” Louis frowns as he fidgets with Harry's pajama shirt and Harry caresses his hair adoringly.

“Because I don't think I would have survived.”

Louis sniffs. “You would have been fine.”

“Liar,” Harry laughs. “We both know I can't even go two days without missing you unbearably much.”

“Yeah?” When Louis rests his head on Harry's shoulder again, he starts kissing every bit of Harry's neck while his hand glides under his shirt – over his stomach up to his chest. “What would you miss?”

Harry moans softly as his fingers search for grip in Louis' hair, his breathing heavy when he speaks. “I would miss your teasing jokes, and your smell. I would miss the way you look at me and our children. And I would miss your body and the way you touch mine.”

He suddenly pulls Louis up by his hair to make their gazes meet. Their eyes show desire and Harry grabs Louis' face with both hands, bringing it to his. They kiss hard, mouths opening and closing, grasping for air. Harry licks Louis' lips, begging him to let him in, and when he does, their tongues curl around one another. Their hands desperately explore each other's bodies like they're running out of time, like what they've been missing for so long could be taken away from them again at any time, and their muffled moans become one between their mouths.

Louis leaves a trail of kisses on Harry's stomach as he pulls his shirt up – one on every one of his tattoos and all the spaces between them. After he takes it off, Louis leans in to kiss Harry again, but Harry stops him to take his shirt off as well. Louis swings his leg over Harry's and he leans forward as they kiss, their hips grinding on each other. They're both hard and it feels good to move against one another, because it's always felt good and it's been _so_ long.

Harry lets go of Louis' lips to let his head fall back as he moans and buries his nails in Louis' back. Louis kisses Harry's neck hard but stops to say in a thick voice, “God, I've missed you so much.”

A tear roll down his cheek and onto Harry's shoulder, but it doesn't stop him. On the contrary, it makes his body ache for Harry even more.

Louis' hand runs down Harry's stomach and he stops when he feels the fabric of Harry's boxer shorts, which are a little higher on his hips than his pajama pants. He blinks up at Harry, who smiles at first but then grabs his wrist and swallows.

“Is it okay if we just... cuddle? For now?” Harry asks, and of course it's okay to Louis. Everything is okay as long as he gets to be close to Harry. So, they continue to pretend to pay attention to the movie that's still playing while Louis presses kisses on Harry's shoulder.

Louis wants to feel Harry, he does, but everything is happening in a rush, and if Harry wants to wait, that's fine by him.

He doesn't have to wait for long, though, because soon enough Harry clears his throat, says, “Okay, that's enough cuddling,” and pulls Louis on top of him, kissing him hard.

Giggling, Louis meets his kiss and finds their hips locked again. A soft, sweet moan escapes his mouth when he feels that Harry is still hard as well, and his hand moves down there like a magnet is pulling it. He feels him up for a bit until he looks up and when Harry's nods with hungry eyes, Louis let's his hand slip in.

With his hand full of Louis' hair, Harry sighs as he says, “I don't know if I have the strength to do anything.”

Louis grins at that and bites on Harry's lower lip. “Don't worry, you won't have to do anything, just relax.”

Harry does as Louis says and lets his head fall back on the pillow. He closes his eyes and moans again when Louis' fingers surround Harry, his thumb gently touching his top.

Louis looks at Harry as his hand slowly moves up and down, and he can't help but smile at his beauty – his curls, his closed eyes, his half-open mouth, his tattoos, all of it, and he is struck by how much he loves him. The thought of ever touching someone else like this seems ridiculous and in this moment he swears he never will. With Harry, he feels loved like he's never been loved before. They're scared, both of them, but they have enough faith in each other to know that they can get through anything, and that alone makes Louis want to burst into sunshine.

He lowers his head to Harry's abdomen, softly kissing his hipbones. Ready to instinctively pull down Harry's underwear, he lets go of him and moves his hands to the sides, but he stops. “What if someone comes in?”

Harry's fingers grab Louis' brown hair roughly as he whispers, “I really don't care,” and Louis grins at, because his voice is so sexy right now and he looks so ready and impatient – his eyes now squeezed shut and his breathing heavy.

Louis decides to take his hands out of his boxers and grins at him some more. After a few seconds, Harry opens one eye and sighs when he sees Louis looking up at him. “You tease,” he mumbles in his deep, slow voice.

Louis laughs and sticks his thumbs in Harry's boxer shorts at the sides. Harry lifts his bum so that Louis can pull them down – just far enough for him to be out, so that he can pull it back up in case someone walks in. He gently kisses Harry's thighs, with Harry's moans as his encouragement, and he thinks that he could do this forever. Just stay there between Harry's thighs where he feels safe and he knows what to do, and just _be_.

When Harry softly pulls on Louis' hair, he knows that he's played enough, and he moves his mouth to the middle. Harry feels hard in his hand and wet in his mouth as he closes his lips around him. Trying not to make too much noise, Harry squeezes his mouth shut, groaning under his breath. He holds Louis' head with one hand, and his hand with the other, and Louis licks and sucks and pulls until Harry orgasms in his mouth. It doesn't take long, because Harry was longing for Louis' touch more than ever – just like he is.

After Louis swallows the thick salty substance, he pulls Harry's boxer shorts and pajama pants back in their place, and Harry leans forward to wrap his arms around Louis' neck and kiss him on his lips, tasting his own fluids. “Thank you.”

Louis embraces Harry as well and holds him close. He lets out a sigh as he says, “Don't think I will ever let you go again, Styles. I love you so much.”

“I was hoping you'd say that.” Harry kisses Louis again before they fall back into their original positions – Louis curled up against Harry's side and his arm wrapped around his shoulder.

Drawing hearts on Harry's stomach with the tip of his index finger, Louis says, “It's still weird, though. Doing this in such a creepy place as a hospital.”

Harry laughs. “You still haven't fucked me, though.”

“You've barely been awake for twenty four hours and you're already whining,” he hums back. “I'm going to safe that for when you get home. I have my limits.”

“I'm pretty sure you don't,” Harry says and he lets his hand slide down Louis' back to squeeze his butt, and Louis laughs at that.

“I have very few when it comes to you, but shagging you in a hospital bed is still one of them.”

“Fine,” Harry agrees. “I want our first time to be in our own bed, anyway.”

Louis smiles and tilts his head to look at his beautiful husband. “You make it sound like we're teenagers again.”

“Kind of feels that way, doesn't it?” Harry says with the sweetest look in his eyes, and Louis wishes that he could kiss him for the rest of his life and make that his lifework.

“It does,” Louis confirms as he presses his nose in the space between Harry's collarbones. “And I love it.”

 

**· · · · · · · ·**

 

It's hard to believe that there's a world outside of this hospital room. It might not be the coziest room in the history of rooms, but they've made it work. One of the nurses lent her silk scarf to them, and they use it to cover one of the fluorescent tubes to dim the cold bright light, making the whole ambiance a bit softer.

Reading a book that he left here months ago, Louis absentmindedly brushes Harry's curls with his fingers. He's been asleep for about an hour – occasionally trying to pull Louis behind him as he's curled up on his side – but Louis is still too restless to lie down.

Just as he moves to press a kiss on the side of Harry's head, his phone starts buzzing and he's reminded of his life apart from Harry. He considers letting it ring for a moment, but decides to pick up anyway. Still finishing the movement he started, he doesn't bother to look at the screen to see who it is as he answers.

“Tomlinson,” he says and the sound is muffled by the strands of Harry's hair in his mouth.

It's quiet for a bit until he hears, “It's Niall,” and hefrowns but smiles, happy to hear his best friend's voice.

“Hey Niall, I was hoping you'd–”

“I'm not calling about– You know–”

Louis frowns again, but says, “I told him, Ni. He knows.”

The other end of the line is silent again, and Louis can't decide what to think of that, because shouldn't Niall be happy? He wanted him to open up to Harry about his feelings and he has.

Niall mumbles something that Louis can't hear and then says, “I'm actually calling because James wants to talk to you. He can't sleep.”

Louis smiles softly as he closes the book on his stomach and crawls a bit closer to Harry. “Right, put him on.”

There's a bit of rumble and distant speaking before James comes on, and his little voice is sleepy yet clear with excitement. “Daddy!” he squeals.

“Hey, buddy.” Louis smiles again at the sweet sound of his son, and he just now realizes that he misses him. He saw him a couple of hours ago and he misses him. To be honest, it's an emotion that he hasn't felt in a while, and it's a bit overwhelming. “Can't sleep?” he asks.

He can't see him but he knows that James is shaking his head as he says, “No, Daddy's gone.”

“I know, sweet pea,” Louis says in a serious tone. “But you still have your friends, and if I'm not here, Daddy has to sleep alone. You wouldn't want that, would you?”

Harry squirms a bit as he rolls on his back under Louis' arm. “Is he okay?” he murmurs.

“He's fine, sweetheart. Go back to sleep.”

They give each other a quick, lazy kiss and Harry rolls on his other side to put his head on Louis' shoulder while James keeps talking.

“... his cape,” is all Louis catches, so he asks, “Did you find a cape for Liam?”

James sighs annoyed. “Yes, Daddy, that's what I'm telling you. Red cape.”

After James yawns loudly, Louis hears Niall's voice come back in the background, and James says, “I'm going to go to sleep now. Bye, Daddy.”

“Okay, wee man. Sweet dreams.”

He hears the familiar sounds of putting James in bed – the sound of pulling sheets in their place, the usual 'here's your monkey', and a big wet kiss being planted on someone's cheek. It's endearing, really, and right now Louis can't seem to understand how there used to be a time when he couldn't be bothered to do it. He's ashamed to admit it, and he's not sure if he'll ever tell Harry, but there have been nights when he'd rather drink a bottle of wine on the porch than climb upstairs and help his son into his pajamas. There have also been mornings when he found him half-tucked in and still wearing his clothes from the day before.

The memory aches and he squints his eyes shut to ignore it and focus on the present. The present where he wouldn't let that happen again, and also the present where there's Harry to fix things if he screws up again. Harry wouldn't allow him to get so lost. But then again, there's no reason for Louis to be if Harry's by his side.

He's busy readjusting the sheets and pulling them higher to cover Harry up properly when Niall says, “I think he'll be asleep soon. Just needed to hear your voice.”

His voice is somewhere between endeared by James and still annoyed at Louis, and Louis decides to keep the conversation casual. “Thank you for taking care of him, Niall. He loves you.” When Niall stays quiet he asks, “Are you heading home soon?”

Niall sighs. “Yeah, I guess so. I had dinner with the lads and we got to talking. You know how it goes.”

Louis nods even though Niall can't see him, and he's at a loss for words. He's not used to this with him. They don't have to keep conversations casual to avoid more serious topics. They never have and he doesn't want that to change, but he can't think of anything to say.

He's relieved when Niall says, “So, what did you tell Harry?”

“That I'm scared, and that I won't leave him because I love him,” Louis says as he looks down at Harry and how his long, skinny body is tangled up with Louis' short and curvy one, their tattoos lining up perfectly.

“Wasn't so hard, was it?”

“No, it wasn't,” Louis admits. Biting his lip, he considers his next move carefully, but decides to just go for it. “I still don't think it's entirely fair that you put the blame for your inability to find love on me, though.”

Niall sighs again. “I guess it was unfair, yeah. Lou, do you want me to be honest with you?”

“Of course.”

The silence sets in again for a moment or two, and Louis wonders what he's going to say if he waits this long to find the right words. Niall isn't one to talk about feelings – not his own, at least – and he usually isn't shy to speak up, either. This whole situation is out of character for him, and it worries Louis.

“Well, the truth is,” Niall says finally. “You and Harry are the reason why I haven't tried with anyone, that part is true. But the explanation I gave you this afternoon wasn't and I'm sorry. I guess I was just trying to get a point across.”

Louis chuckles nervously. “You did that just fine.”

“I know. The thing is... The reason why I haven't tried is that I don't think what you and Harry have is written in the stars for me.” He heaves a sigh as if it took him all his breath to get the words out.

“What do you mean?” Louis asks confused as he tilts his head to check on Harry and find him back asleep on his shoulder.

“You are perfect for each other, Lou. Having witnessed that, I don't want to settle for less. I just don't feel like my soul mate is out there somewhere, if that makes sense. It doesn't, does it?”

“Of course it does, Ni,” Louis says, and he means it. “But would you say you've really been open to finding her? I mean, if you're going into it thinking she won't be the one anyway, then how is she supposed to prove that she is?”

“I don't know.” Niall goes quieter and Louis doesn't really know what to say to make him feel better. “What I said about you being a jealous son of a bitch is true, though, but I understand why you were. It's actually that that made me look closer at your relationship, you know? I wondered why you were so afraid to lose it, and I realized that it was because it's perfect.”

“I don't think any relationship is perfect, but it's pretty great, yeah,” Louis agrees.

“Yes, it is, Lou. The reason why I got so mad at you is that you've got everything that I want, but you don't seem to be doing your best to keep it, and I don't understand.”

Louis nods and swallows. “It's because you're right – I am scared to lose it. That fear makes my judgment cloudy sometimes and makes me act in ways that I don't understand myself.”

He waits for a moment, but Niall stays silent, and Louis wonders where he is. Maybe he's still in James' room, maybe he's in the hallway... It's weird to think that he is in his house – their house – and Louis and Harry are stuck in this shitty hospital.

A few moments and breaths later, Louis says, “You're wrong about me not doing my best, though. The truth is that I do everything within my power to keep them. It just takes me a while to figure out what that is sometimes.”

“I guess you're right,” Niall half-whispers. “Can I ask you something, Lou?”

“Sure, bro.”

“Was there any truth to what I said about you being the one who wanted to leave London?”

A chill runs down Louis' spine and he's not entirely sure why. It's a shitty time to look back at – the time before they created their life in Los Angeles – but it's been so long. It's been so long and it still hurts, and that's another thing to add to Louis' list of fears.

“I know that it's not what you want to hear, Niall,” he starts. “But I think we both wanted to. Not for the reason you think, though. Leaving wasn't some way for us to keep each other to ourselves. It's just that... I go there sometimes when I visit my mum, and it holds so many memories, you know? Good memories, of course, like our first flat, the places where we had our first dates, that kind of stuff, but also really dark memories.

“Whenever I'm in London, or any place in England, really, all I see are the streets where Harry and I weren't allowed to hold hands, or walk next to each other, even. When Harry got his house in Los Angeles, that became our hiding place, almost. It was where we could be together. There are no dark memories here.”

It's the best explanation that Louis can think of, and he hopes that it's good enough, because it's the truth. He hasn't been back to England since the twins were born, he realizes now, but he remembers being there some time before that, maybe a year.

He was browsing the streets of London with his mother to buy Christmas presents when she pointed out the street where he and Harry used to live – like he could ever forget. He had nodded and faked a smile before moving along like he didn't care, but in reality memories he'd stacked somewhere in the back of his mind started to resurface without his permission. They were memories of arguments and fights that happened there many years ago, and mostly the biggest one – the one that made them decide to come out.

It had been right after the meeting about their management's wish for Louis to get engaged to Eleanor, and it had started with “they can't do this”, and somehow ended with “you want to come out?! Fine, then!”, “Fine!” and the slamming of a door. They were so young back then. Young and naive, Louis knows now, and completely oblivious to the consequences of their actions.

Niall's voice pulls Louis back to the present as he says, “Yeah, I know, I know. I'm just going to check on James and head home, yeah?”

“Yeah, please let me know if he's okay.”

Louis listens as Niall's breathing becomes heavier from walking up the stairs and he opens a door. Louis chuckles as he realizes that he's holding his breath, as if James could wake up from the sound if he didn't. For a moment he can tell that Niall is standing still, and then he's moving again.

“He's asleep, Lou. Monkey safely tucked under his arm.”

“Thanks, mate.” Louis smiles. “Get home safe, okay? And say hi to the lads for me.”

“Of course. Sleep tight, bud.”

And with that, the call ends. Louis checks his recent emails – annoying ads and some questions about Harry – but he puts his phone on the nightstand without answering any of them, just as he opens his book and puts it away without reading a single word. Instead he takes off his shirt, drops it on the floor, and tries to push Harry away a bit. He didn't mean for him to wake up, but still Harry speaks in his slow, hoarse voice.

“Everything okay, Lou?”

Louis strikes some of Harry's hair to the side as he leans down to press a gentle kiss on his lips, dry from sleep.

“Everything's fine. Move over, babe.”

Harry does as Louis says – shifting a bit and rolling over on his right side – and Louis lays down behind him, wrapping an arm around his chest and holding him close.

“Hm,” Harry hums as he squirms into the right position.

Louis brushes his lips against the back of his neck and listens as his breathing becomes less frequent, and he wonders how something that he's heard so many times can still be so special. He couldn't count the amount of nights they've spent together if he wanted to, but he knows that it's a lot. Fourteen years is a lot of nights.

Back when they were still in the band, they couldn't sleep together every night, and he hated it. They both did. One time Niall let him spoon him in hopes that he would finally manage to fall asleep, but it wasn't the same at all. He knows Harry's body like the back of his own hand – every curve, every mole, his smell, the way his chest expands at every deep breath. Besides, he might be close with Niall, but having his crotch pressed against his butt was still too weird of a feeling.

But he's here now, Harry, and he's safely pressed up against him, and Louis uses the opportunity to take in every piece of him until he dozes off into a calm, long sleep.


	12. Twelve

 

Twelve

**· · · · ֍ · · · ·**

 

Two weeks and lots of physio- and psychotherapy later, Harry finally gets to go home. The past two weeks have been filled with very high ups and very low downs – one minute he would be standing up, joking and laughing, and the next he would be on the floor crying. Sometimes he'd cry over William, sometimes because he still feels pathetic for being a little weak, and sometimes for no reason at all. Holding down his food didn't go so well at first, either, but after trying to three or four times, his stomach got used to small bowls of yoghurt, and later rice with beans and chicken.

Now that Louis' put all his cards on the table and Niall's back to normal, he's much more relaxed and his mood swings are way less frequent. Because of that, it's been a lot easier for him to fully concentrate on Harry's emotions rather than his own. Of course there's still James to take into consideration, but he's doing great. He hasn't cried in days and he's comfortable around Harry – which is convenient for Louis, because the boy isn't attached to his hip anymore.

And now here he is. Looking at his reflection in the mirror, Louis exhales loudly, shaking his arms to release the tension running through his veins. He adjusts the crisp white shirt under his navy suit as he checks his look one more time. He's had the suit for ages – he bought it to wear to his mum's wedding ten years ago – but Harry has reminded him time and time again that it's his favorite suit on Louis and that he's not allowed to throw it out, so Louis decided today would be a good day to wear it once more. _It still fits surprisingly well_ , Louis thinks to himself.

Running his hand over his brown locks combed in a quiff to make sure it stays exactly how he styled it, he wonders why he's so goddamn nervous. He feels like he's getting ready for his first date with Harry, and maybe in some way he is. Harry told him he's falling in love with Louis all over again, and Louis feels the same way. The butterflies in his stomach flutter more than they used to when he looks at Harry, and Harry is all he thinks about when he wakes up, before he goes to sleep, and all the moments in between.

When the doorbell rings, his brown brogue shoes squeak on the parquet as he makes his way to the hall. After exhaling one more time, he opens the door to find Harry sitting in his wheelchair. He looks stunning in the black suit Louis told Niall to bring to the hospital that afternoon before driving him home. The black shirt is see-through, just enough for the outlines of the butterfly on his stomach to be visible, making something stir in Louis' at the sight of it. Harry's wearing his hair in a bun – not the messy one he wears when he doesn't feel like making an effort with his appearance, but a neat one, his hair combed back carefully and twisted perfectly on the back of his head. The strands of hair that didn't make it all the way to the elastic band are tucked behind his ears.

Because Harry is fidgeting with his hands in his lap, Louis reckons he is just as nervous as he is and he finds it adorable. But then again, he finds pretty much everything Harry does adorable.

“Welcome home.” Louis and Harry smile brightly at each other, sparks flying out of their eyes. “Thank you, Ni.”

Niall backs away from the wheelchair to head for his car. “You're welcome, mate. Have fun, you two. And use something, I'm not looking for another child of yours to raise,” he shouts, and Louis smiles at the back of his head.

“Ha-ha!” he shouts back.

Louis waves at Niall in gratitude as he climbs into his car before turning his head back at Harry. He's moving his hands to the wheels of his chair, ready to roll in, and Louis shakes his head at him.

“I'm not letting you enter the house like that, babe,” he says as he walks over to the side of the wheelchair, leaning forward to pick Harry up.

“I can walk, you know,” Harry laughs, but he lets Louis pick him up anyway, wrapping his arms around his neck and brushing his lips against the side of it.

“I know, but this is more romantic, if you ask me.” Louis presses a kiss on Harry's temple as he steps over the threshold and carries Harry inside. Harry giggles, but the sound fades away as he gasps at the sight of the living room. Louis went all out and lit as many candles as he could. There might be a hundred, and little does Harry know there are dozens more in the bedroom, waiting to be lit as well.

“Lou,” Harry says, his voice soft with surprise as his wide green eyes take it all in – the green eyes that Louis has come to love more than anything else in the world. He always knew that he loved them, from the minute he first saw them in the bathroom, but he didn't realize just how much until he couldn't see them anymore. He looked at hundreds of pictures, but none of them managed to capture the love and brightness inside them. Louis tried to find it in James', but they are different – they show appreciation and love for Louis, but in a different way. They say 'I can't live without you', but without having lived with him for fourteen years. The moment he finally saw them for the first time in almost a half year, Louis' stars finally found their way back to their constellations.

Louis stops in front of the fireplace, feeling the heat of the flames against his shins, and they both stare at the photograph hanging above it. The black and white is now more sepia from the candles standing on the mantelpiece.

Louis turns his head to the side to look at Harry. “You missed our five year anniversary, so I thought we'd make up for it now.”

Harry turns his head as well and looks at his husband through watery eyes, his voice hoarse when he says, “It's all so beautiful.”

Staring into the green of Harry's eyes, Louis nods slightly.

“Yes, it is.”

Feelings overwhelm him when Harry wraps his arms around his neck a little tighter. How did he survive without him, without this? Sure, he was miserable and barely living, but he's still here.

Louis walks away from the fireplace and to the dining room table. It looks beautiful, even Louis thinks so. The off-white cloth hangs from the round top, tied at the bottom of the leg with a gold colored bow. The plates have a little anchor in the middle, with the initials _H+L_ scribbled below it in the same color as the bow, the underplates and the cutlery. In the middle of the table is a square vase of very light pink lilies, in front of it traditional wine glasses, off-white napkins folded into little pyramids and – of course – candles.

“Is it just me, or does all of this look a lot like our wedding decorations?” Harry whispers, his eyes fixed on the table.

“It does,” Louis agrees. “I dug up the plates and cutlery, and did the best I could with the rest.”

Harry turns to look at Louis again, stroking the side of his face. “What did I do to deserve all this?” He laughs a little when he adds, “I'm just Harry.”

“Yes, but you're my Harry.” Smiling, Louis shrugs like it's the most logical explanation in the world, and to him it is, because his Harry is better than every other Harry. Or anyone that goes by a different name, for that matter. “That's the most cliche thing you'll ever hear me say, and you're quite heavy, so I'm going to put you down now.”

Harry laughs as he lands on his feet and he makes his way over to one of the chairs, that Louis pulls out and puts back in its place when Harry sits down.

“Oh, Louis Tomlinson,” Harry sighs. “You are too much for me.”

Louis leans forward until his upper lip touches Harry's ear and he whispers, “As long as I'm enough.” He kisses Harry's earlobe shortly before he straightens himself and walks off into the kitchen.

“You sure are.”

Harry looks up when Louis comes back holding a bottle of wine, and smiles. “Bollinger Grande Année, you remember.”

“Of course I remember.” Louis uncorks the bottle and fills both their glasses with the almost gold colored liquid. “That's what got you drunk and got you talking about wanting to have a baby with me all night.”

Louis laughs at the memory as he sits down on his own chair. Even during their first dance at the wedding reception Harry whispered about it in Louis' ear.

Harry laughs as well and says, “I wanted to have a baby with you long before then, I just wanted to wait until we were married.” He shifts in his chair to face Louis and holds his hand on the table.

“Remember when you almost believed me when I told you I took a pregnancy test?” Louis says as he laughs some more. “You are so easy to fool.”

Harry lowers and shakes his head, remembering the night he got back from a jog and found Louis sitting on the couch holding a pregnancy test. “Speaking of babies, is James at Niall's?”

“Yeah,” Louis replies as he strokes the back of Harry's hand with his thumb. “He picked him up along with your suit this afternoon. I thought it would be nice to spend this evening with just the two of us.”

“It is.” Harry stops Louis when he raises his glass to take a sip with a hand motion. “Is it okay if I make a toast? I have something I want to say to you.” When Louis nods and puts his glass back down, Harry clears his throat, preparing himself to say exactly what he planned.

“My dearest Louis,” he starts.

Louis smiles broadly because he loves being his and he loves hearing that he is.

“Even though you are not proud of yourself, I want you to know that I am incredibly proud of how you handled yourself over the past months and I hope that one day you'll look back and be proud too. I can only imagine what it was like for you when I was gone, but I know how it's been since I've been back, and I want to thank you. You have been there for me in every way possible and you'll never know how thankful I am.”

Harry stops to swallow and Louis does the same, blinking away a tear that's stuck in his eyelashes.

“You've tried playing it cool by saying things like 'in sickness and in health', like it's obvious that you're here, but it's not. And it has been way more than coming to every therapy session with me and sleeping by my side in that crappy hospital bed that is way too small for two grown men every night. It's that you spoke when words were needed, and you shared the silence with me when they were not. You knew exactly when I needed you to hold me or when I needed to be alone without me ever telling you.

“You have always been the best friend, boyfriend, and husband that I could have ever wished for, and over the past few weeks you have reassured me a thousand times that marrying you was the best decision I have ever made. And now I'm going to stop talking or else I'm going to spend the rest of the night crying.”

They both laugh, their laughs muffled by tears and the lumps in their throats.

“I just wanted to make sure that you know that I love you very much and that I am grateful to you for being you. And this is absolutely the best way to come home.”

When Louis is sure that Harry is done speaking, he grabs his face with both hands and kisses his lips hard, squeezing his eyes shut. If the love they hold for each other was water, it would be enough to fill the ocean and he wouldn't mind drowning in it at all. He wants to live in this moment forever, because even if it's just for now, it feels like nothing bad could ever happen to them again. And if it does, their love would make them strong enough to face it together.

Louis' lips leave Harry's as he pulls away and he sniffs. “Thank you, my love. There is something that I'd like to say to you as well. It's a lot shorter than what you just said, but you're a lot better at this than I am.” He laughs to the floor, suddenly feeling very self conscious. “I want to you thank you, too, for coming back to me when I'd lost all hope. I've experienced life without you and I never want to have to do it again. You make me want to _live_ again and be a better father for James. In short, I love you with all my heart.”

Louis quickly takes a sip of his wine and rushes his hand through his hair, forgetting for a second that it's combed back into a quiff instead of his usual fringe.

Harry smiles as he leans forward to kiss Louis' cheek. The feeling of Harry's soft pink lips on his skin gives Louis goosebumps – in a good way, a very good way. He clears his throat and says, “Let me get dinner, okay? It should be done by now.”

They kiss one more time before he grabs their plates and heads for the kitchen.

Once he's there, he sighs and tries to keep himself from smiling like an idiot. Wondering what he's ever done to make Harry love him so much, he tries to process his words. Harry was right, he isn't proud of himself, but when he's around him, he sees a glimpse of the version of himself that Harry sees and he feels a bit better. It's amazing what love does to a person.

He puts the plates on the counter and starts to transfer the food from the pans to the plates. It's _their_ meal, the first meal Louis ever cooked for Harry – the first meal he ever cooked at all – and the only one he's good at; chicken stuffed with mozzarella wrapped in parma ham with a side of home made mash.

Even though Harry is a way better cook than Louis, he's never made this meal because this is Louis'. Every time he cooks it, he puts just as much effort into it as he did the first time and Harry loves it. Louis is not sure if Harry loves it so much because he loves the taste, or if he loves it because Louis made it, but either way it's good.

Harry laughs fondly as Louis walks out of the kitchen carrying the plates. “I knew it.”

“Oh, shut up,” Louis chuckles back as he puts the plates back where they were and sits down. “You love it.”

“I do, and I'm thankful that you made it.”

When Louis laughs again, he realizes that he sounds more carefree than he has in a long time.

“If we use the word 'thankful' any more, it will be like Thanksgiving in here.”

Harry unfolds his napkin and lays it on his thighs. “Well, that's another holiday that I missed, so we might as well make up for that one too.”

Louis does the same and smiles as he watches Harry cut his chicken. “Yeah? What else are you thankful for?”

“I'll let you know later in a different way than speaking.” Harry winks at Louis as he chews his food and moans softly with his eyes closed when he remembers how much he loves this meal. “Shorty, you've outdone yourself.”

Louis smiles endeared at the word 'shorty' as he puts some mash on his fork and brings it to his mouth. “Why, thank you, Curly.”

They talk about all kinds of things while they eat, but neither of them mentions William's death. Not because they're trying to forget it happened, but because they don't want to ruin the mood. Once Harry looks at a photograph standing on a side table with him in it. He's sitting on Louis' arm while James sits on Harry's. It was taken at the zoo and they look so happy. He mentions it to Louis, but they only talk about how fun that day was, not what happened only weeks later.

As Harry wipes the corners of his mouth with his napkin when he finishes desert – waffles with strawberries and whipped cream – he says, “I'm glad Liam and Zayn came out here. Remember me to thank them. James seems to love them too.”

“You've already thanked them a million times.” Louis laughs as he does the same. “But yes, it's been great. I'm glad they've moved to Niall's place, though. It's nice to have the house to ourselves.”

Harry nods in agreement. “I'm grateful for Niall, too. He's been a great help with you and James.”

“Yeah, always has been. I'm still happy that he moved out here. I never expected him to leave Ireland.”

“Me neither,” Harry says. “I guess after his parents passed and Greg moved away from the memories, he didn't have a whole lot to stay for.”

Louis shakes his head and rests it in the palm of his hand as he places his elbow on the table. “Right after you went into your coma, he told me that he moved out here to look for family – that we are his family. He said that when I called him to tell him that you were in the hospital, he felt like I was talking about his brother. That's why I've gotten so close to him through all of this. He has at least an idea of what it was like for me.”

They think about this for a minute in silence, holding each other's hands, their fingers intertwined. It's funny how perfectly their hands fit together, because of how small Louis' hand is and how big Harry's is. It's probably like that with all of them. Everything about them is different – Louis' smaller, but built broader. Harry is the sweetest and most friendly guy you could ever meet, while Louis is sarcastic and sassy. Maybe it's their differences that makes them work together.

Louis breaks the silence when he lets go of Harry's hand and jumps up. “Before I forget.” He walks away from the table and into the pantry, where he picks up a heavy square object wrapped in gold colored paper with an anchor on it. He had it designed especially for Harry when he ordered the present. When he walks back out, Harry's face lights up like that of a child on Christmas morning.

“I got this for your birthday, but you missed that too.” He sits down again and hands it over to Harry, who starts unwrapping it at once.

His movements are impatient, but also careful, trying not to rip the paper. When the paper finally falls to the ground, he gasps.

“Leeds,” he whispers.

It's a painting of the festival site they visited so many years ago. The grass, tents and people were painted with both pastels and bright colors, making the picture a bit vague but still recognizable. Louis had it painted for Harry two months before his birthday. He'd tried to think of the moment he started to love Harry, but since it feels like he started long before he was even born, he thought of the place where he'd first told Harry that he loves him. He looked through their pictures and took the best one to a local artist and explained how he wanted the painting to be. The result is even more beautiful than he imagined.

“Is that my wristband?” Harry asks shocked as he points to the corner of the canvas.

Louis laughs and shakes his head. “Don't worry, it's still in your diary. I took a picture of it and asked the painter to use it.”

Harry stares at the painting with a broad smile on his face before he turns to Louis and kisses his lips. “I love it, thank you, sweetie.”

“I'll let you decide where to put it. Which makes sense considering you've made pretty much every decision about our interior.”

“You know, it wouldn't have hurt to take care of my plants,” Harry says with raised eyebrows.

“I'll call someone and have them take care of it, you know I suck at gardening and all that stuff.”

Louis starts gathering the bowls and glasses, but Harry stops him by grabbing his wrist. “What do you say we watch the sunset on the beach first and clean up later?”

Louis smiles down at his beautiful husband and says, “Sounds perfect.”

 

Louis is sitting behind Harry, allowing him to rest against his chest, and the sand is cold beneath them. With his arms wrapped around Harry tightly and his chin resting on his head, Louis watches the sun setting behind the horizon. The sky turns different shades of pink, yellow and orange as the ball of light disappears.

“It happened here, didn't it?” Harry says in a sad voice. He grabs one of Louis' hands and presses it against his chest, right where his heart is.

Louis kisses the top of Harry's head. “A little over there, yeah.” He turns his head to the side and Harry's follows.

“Did it, uh. Was it quick?”

Watching the place where a little cross was stuck in the sand months ago, Louis nods against Harry's temple. “I told you, I think it was.”

Harry's shoulders shock as a chill runs down his spine and Louis rubs his wrists where goosebumps rise.

“How was James that night?”

Louis sighs at that. “Are you sure you want to do this now, Haz? We've been over this before.”

“No, you're right.” Tilting his head slightly, Harry presses a kiss on Louis' lips.

They don't talk about it any more, but lay down in the sand and watch the sky turn darker and darker until it's a deep shade of blue.

Holding Harry as he lays his head on Louis' chest, Louis realizes that they're not just each other's worlds – they are the stars reflecting on the sea as they shine just for them, lighting their galaxies and guiding them home to each other.

After a while, Harry turns around and presses himself up, his hands in the sand, leaning over Louis. His eyes are sparkly and his lips seem dry, and Louis knows what's coming. He smiles and nods when Harry says, “I want you to make love to me.”

And he does.

They kiss making their way back to the house, not hard and rushed, but soft and slow, making it worthwhile and enjoying each other to the fullest. Their movements become more hasty as they leave a trial of clothes on the stairs, but when they're on the bed, you really can't call it anything other than making love.

They touch each other so gently, and Louis moves so slowly inside of Harry, that it's the most tender and intense kind of sex they've ever shared. They don't shout each other's names, but whisper them instead, and a tear streams down Harry's face as Louis thrusts calmly between his legs.

“Am I hurting you?” Louis asks worried while he kisses his neck, but Harry shakes his head.

“I just can't remember ever feeling so loved.”

 

**· · · · · · · ·**

 

Louis wakes up from the touch of Harry's lips on his neck. Smiling, he opens one eye but closes it as fast as he can because the bedroom is flooded with sunlight. With a tired groan he rolls on his back.

“Hey, beautiful.” Harry's voice is hoarse with sleep, but just as lovely as ever.

Louis opens his eyes again, just small stripes that allow him to look at Harry while they adjust to the light. The edges of Harry's face are faded and surrounded by flocks of dust, whirling through the air but never really falling. He raises his hand to touch Harry's jaw, making sure it's still there. “Hey,” he mutters. “How did you sleep?”

Harry brushes Louis' hair with his fingers, slowly and just touching his scalp. “Very good. Almost as deep as my coma.”

“That's not funny.” Louis rolls on his side again, but this time the one where Harry is and he yawns as he buries his face in Harry's chest. “It's so light in here, what time is it?”

Harry turns his head to look at the clock hanging on the wall beside them. “Just a little past ten. Neither of us wanted to get up last night after, you know, so the curtains are still open.”

Louis moans again, this time a little whiny. “I reckon we didn't lock the doors then, either, did we?”

“I guess not.”

Harry lays down on his back and holds out his arm, inviting Louis to come lie with him, so he does. He shifts a bit to the side and lays his head on Harry's shoulder, wrapping his arm around his waist.

Louis is almost back asleep when Harry says, “I was just thinking, and we should do it.”

His eyes still closed, Louis frowns. “Do what?”

“Get married.”

“What are you talking about? We are married, you goof.” Louis yawns as he tries to move even closer against Harry, but Harry pulls away and leans on his elbow to face Louis.

“I know,” Harry agrees, and his eyes sparkle. “But we could do it again. I kind of look at this as a new start for our relationship, you know? And we've both said that we are completely and utterly in love with each other again, so it would be the right time.”

Louis thinks about Harry's request for a second. He doesn't really see the point in having another wedding, but he's willing to do it if Harry really wants to. He knows that he's more sentimental about that kind of stuff, and most of the time he just plays along.

Harry is taken by surprise when Louis suddenly gets up and sits down on top of him, their hips locked. “Lou, what are you doing?”

Leaning to the side to open Harry's nightstand, Louis takes out the necklace with Harry's wedding ring hanging from it. He wore it to bed one night when Harry was still in his coma, but he put it back in the drawer the next morning, because it felt wrong for anyone other than Harry to wear it – even him. He smiles at Harry as he opens the necklace at the close and pulls it through the ring, dropping the chain on the nightstand. Turning back to Harry he says, “Well, Harry Edward Styles, will you marry me – again?”

“Yes!” Harry shouts exaggerated and he throws his fists in the air, looking like a real champion.

They both laugh as Louis puts the ring on Harry's finger, and Louis loves him. He loves him so much that it's almost ridiculous.

“I was wondering where it was.” Harry stretches out his hand to admire the ring from a distance, looking at it like it's a long lost friend.

“I kept it safe for you.” Leaning forward, Louis presses a kiss on Harry's lips.

Harry's eyes widen and Louis knows what's coming.

“You know what we should do?” Harry says, his voice filled with enthusiasm.

“Oh God.” Louis lays down on his back beside Harry. “I knew this was a bad idea.” He's trying to sound annoyed, he really is, but he can't help but grin. It almost hurts as his cheeks pull the corners of his mouth up.

Completely ignoring Louis' attitude, Harry leans on his elbow again. He says, “We should do a Winter themed wedding,” and the way he says it makes it sound like there should be a 'eureka' in there somewhere.

“Why?” Louis frowns again. “Winter is cold. Isn't a wedding supposed to be something warm?”

“Yeah, but we already did a Summer themed wedding here in LA,” he explains.

Louis closes his eyes as he prepares himself for the waterfall of ideas and plans that is about to flow from Harry's lips.

“We could fly everyone out to some beautiful... snowy place. There should be ice sculptures everywhere and James could be the ring bearer and wear some cute costume. Oh, this is going to be perfect.”

“A cute costume?” Louis repeats, his tone sarcastic as opposed to Harry's enthusiasm. “What, you want to turn our wedding into Narnia?”

Harry claps his hands and laughs. “No, but we could dress him up as a penguin–“

“Harold, I am not letting you dress up my son as a penguin.” Louis grins and rubs his eyes with the back of his hand, letting it rest on his forehead.

Pouting, Harry says, “He's my son, too, you know.”

“Yes, and you can dress him up as a penguin on Halloween.” Louis shuts Harry up with a kiss, but it's not enough, because Harry keeps talking into Louis' mouth.

“But can you just imagine? It wouldn't be some cheap costume, we would have it designed especially for him and–”

“For God's sake, Curly, just shut up and kiss me.”

Harry does as Louis says and they kiss and laugh, their laughs becoming one between their mouths, and after a minute or so, Louis leans back against his pillow. With his eyes still closed, he murmurs, “What on Earth ever moved me to marry you? I've never been a romantic guy and here I am in bed with a fool who wants to dress up our son as a bloody penguin for a Winter Wonderland themed wedding – second wedding, I might add.”

Harry laughs as he watches his fingers stroke Louis' bare chest, following the lines of the words tattooed there. “Perhaps it's because you love me and I love you. Besides, not romantic, my ass. What do you call that dinner we had last night, then?”

“Yeah, okay.” Louis chuckles to himself. “I guess that was kind of romantic.”

Still laughing, Harry leans forward to lick both of Louis' nipples and flick them playfully.

“Hey,” Louis murmurs, softly pushing Harry's head to the side. “Come lie with me for a bit.”

Louis stretches his arm as he lets Harry snuggle up to him and he presses his lips against the top of his head. Harry moans softly when Louis brushes his mess of curls with his short fingers.

“If we're really going to have another wedding,” Louis says, his voice deeper than usual – maybe it's because he's still sleepy, but it's more likely from feeling so cozy and warm. “I have a better idea than some Winter themed freak show.”

Harry giggles and asks him what it is, so Louis tells him. “Well, I was just thinking that we should somehow include William in the ceremony, so why not do it on the beach? We don't have to do it on the exact spot where it happened, but just in front of our house. We could keep it small – only invite the people we really love and want to be there.”

Louis looks down at Harry to see what he thinks, suddenly feeling a bit insecure about his ideas. To be honest, ever since Harry woke up, Louis has thought of doing some kind of ceremony at the beach. To mourn William's death as well as celebrate their love for each other and James, along with their family and friends, of course. The tender smile on Harry's face and loving look in his eyes tell Louis to go on.

“I'd like to do it at night, because the kids have always loved to go there after dinner. The back porch is big enough to have a bar set up there and we could put candles on the sides of the stairs. We should say our vows right as the sun sets behind us and dance the night away under the starry sky. What do you think?”

Harry's smile has only gotten bigger, showing the dimples in his cheeks – the one on the left a little deeper than the right. “I think you're the most wonderful man I've ever known and I love everything you just said. And you are not allowed to ever say you are not romantic again.” He presses himself up on his elbows to give Louis a small but passionate kiss. Caressing the side of Louis' face, he says, “To hell with penguins, I want exactly what you just described.”

Louis laughs softly as he stares into the green of his husband and apparently fiance’s eyes. “Isn't it a bit corny, though?”

“I like corny,” Harry shrugs. “I think everyone we love will understand, and if they don't, it's their loss.”

Louis' smile turns more serious as he frowns and looks at the swallows on either side of Harry's chest. “I've held a ceremony for William a few days after the accident. Only our parents, siblings and Niall were there, I didn't want anyone else to come.”

Still stroking the side of Louis' face, Harry looks sad. Again, Louis can't tell if he's sad about William or for Louis, but because it's Harry, it's probably the latter. It's not like Harry doesn't care about anyone else – you can practically hear his heart breaking every time someone says William's name out loud – it's just that Louis is Louis, and if it was up to Harry, Louis would never be sad.

“Liam and Zayn weren't even there,” Louis continues, the words hoarse and dry in his throat. “I wanted to invite them, but I couldn't get myself to do it. They'd been out of our lives for so long. Now that we have a chance to do it all over again, I'm not letting that happen again. I can't explain it, because they didn't even know William, but I want them to say goodbye to him too.” He frowns again as he tries to understand himself, and Harry lays his finger on the stripe between Louis' eyes, rubbing it softly as if trying to make it disappear.

Louis feels Harry's breath against his temple as he says, “I know. They might not have been a part of William's life but they are of yours. Actually, they're a part of your heart, whether you admit that or not, and you need their parts to let go of him as well as your own.”

Louis' face relaxes as he looks up at Harry. How can he understand his feelings and explain them so well when he can't even understand them himself? Is that the meaning of a soul mate? Maybe it's the meaning of loving someone – being able to understand them without there being any explanation or logic.

Harry presses his lips against Louis' forehead and whispers, “I'm sorry you've had to go through it alone.”

“I didn't have to.” Louis shakes his head. “There were enough people who wanted to help me, comfort me. I just pushed everyone away because they weren't you.”

Looking at Louis again, Harry smiles and says, “But they're still here, so you must have done something right. James still loves you just as much. I think Niall loves you even more, in a way. That's all that matters – you let them back in.”

“Your mum doesn't like me very much, though,” Louis says, his voice low.

“She'll come around.”

Louis takes Harry's hand in his and kisses the back of it, feeling the soft skin brush against his lips. “Sometimes I honestly think you are the reason why I'm alive.”

“I'm glad I am.” Harry smiles, but it's an uncertain smile, and Louis understands why when Harry speaks again. “Lou, could you take me to William's room? I'm afraid to go in by myself.”

Knowing that fear better than anyone, Louis nods at once. He would've let Harry go alone if he wanted to, but he'd never have suggested it. He's happy to be able to be there for Harry in situations where Harry couldn't be there for him. There have been loads of times when he wished Harry was by his side, and going into William's room was definitely one of them.

They both climb out of the bed and put some comfortable clothes on – underwear, sweatpants and a simple t-shirt. When

Louis' dressed, he walks around the bed to where Harry is standing and wraps his arms around his waist from behind.

“Are you ready, love of my life?”

Harry nods, but it is not a convincing nod. “As ready as I'll ever be.”

 

Louis leads the way as they walk across the hall, their hands locked. Of course Harry knows the way to William's room – it's his own house – but Louis can tell how nervous Harry is, so he figures he should go in first. He turns his head to send a little assuring smile Harry's way before he opens the door.

Harry sighs loudly as he enters the room and stands still right in front of the door. He looks around a bit to find that nothing's changed, before he steps towards the crib. Once there, he doesn't even look at the urn, but immediately reaches for the purple elephant that he bought so long ago. A low sob leaves his throat as he holds it, his eyes squeezed shut.

Now standing behind him, Louis wraps his arms around Harry's waist and rests his head against his shoulder. He hates to see Harry sad, and to feel him sob against his body kills him. Tears burning in his eyes, Louis wishes there was something he could do to relieve the pain, but he knows that there isn't. Harry has to work through it and all Louis can do is support him along the way. He has now idea how, but if anyone should try to help him, it's him.

“I still can't believe it's real,” Harry whispers as he covers the back of Louis' hand with his own and holds the stuffed animal in the other. “I just can't wrap my head around the fact that he's gone.”

Louis simply shakes his head against Harry's shoulder, unable to say anything that would make it seem more real, because to be honest, he doesn't want it to be real. It still feels like William could come running through the door at any time, but the whisper of socked feet on the carpet never comes.

It's a sound that Louis still hears from James all the time – even though he wishes he wouldn't run in them – and sometimes he manages to multiply the sound of his head. It's nice, that he can, but it's also torture. A reminder of days lost he'll never get back.

“You know, I was talking to James the other day,” Harry says, his voice heavy. “I know that William's voice sounded different – the way he used to pronounce words was different – but I can't remember it. It was a little higher, but I– I can't remember my own son's voice.”

Suddenly turning around in Louis' arms, Harry smashes himself against his body. His arms lock around Louis' neck so tightly, that Louis feels like he's holding on to him for dear life, and Louis cries. Louis cries hard, but not nearly as hard as Harry, whose sobs have turned into long, muted cries.

Louis can hear Harry say something, but he can't make out the words, and it doesn't matter. Buckling under Harry's weight, Louis lowers the both of them to the ground and pulls Harry on his lap, just like he did in the hospital. Harry is still holding the elephant as Louis cradles him and his sobs become softer and less frequent.

When Harry's just barely crying, he gets up and puts the elephant back in the crib, only to replace it with the urn, and sits back down on Louis' lap.

Wrapping his arms around him again, Louis kisses Harry's temple, wiping some hair out of his face, and he's reminded of doing the exact same with a much smaller version of Harry. The weird thing is, he still does all these things with James, who is a spitting image of his twin brother, but it's little things like these that Louis misses, that make his heart ache. He'll keep doing them for as long as James allows him to until he grows too old and big and cool to sit in his father's lap, and God, Louis hopes that never happens, but he'll never do them with William.

It's just not the same. He had two boys with whom he could do these things, and to now only have one is the most unfair, heartbreaking thing he can think of. It's nice that they looked the same, but they were so different, so so different, in ways that Louis can't even explain.

He knows that watching James grow up he'll think that William would have looked exactly the same, but he won't know for sure. He will never know how William would have looked at ten, twenty, thirty, and he will never know what kind of things he would have loved.

Would he go out on Saturday nights with his brother?

Would he end up hating James and prefer to stay in reading a book? Those are questions he'll always keep asking himself but he will never find the answers to, and that is yet another thing to add to Louis' list of fears.

Harry's voice sounds broken and exhausted when he speaks. “Did you design it?”

“I did,” Louis confirms with a nod. “What do you think?”

After staring at it for a while, Harry nods too. “I like it. I like that it's simple, but not too simple.”

Louis closes his eyes and rests his head against Harry's shoulder. “I thought we should get a poem or something painted on it, but I wanted to discuss it with you.”

“Maybe we will come up with something over time.”

Harry closes his eyes as well as he leans back against Louis' chest. They sit like that for thirty, maybe forty-five minutes, taking in the smell, trying to picture William playing with his toys or one of them reading him a bedtime story.

Eventually Louis is the one who opens his eyes first and he gently kisses he fabric on Harry's shoulder. “Are you ready to go downstairs and have breakfast? If you want to stay here a little longer, that's fine too.'

Harry turns his head and looks at Louis with empty, green eyes. Eyes that look like they've seen too much, cried too much, felt too much, and Louis feels like if he stares at them for too long he'll break down.

“I'll go with you.”

Louis helps Harry stand up and they wrap an arm around each other as they take one more look at the room, still trying to realize what seems to be impossible to grasp.

“Lou,” Harry whispers. “How did you get over this?”

Inhaling the dusty air, Louis wishes he had an answer. Just a short, simple answer that would make all this seem less terrifying and like a hill rather than a mountain. But the thing is, he doesn't have an answer. Not a short one, not a long one, none.

So, instead he shrugs and says, “I'll let you know when I do.”


	13. Thirteen

 

Thirteen

**· · · · ֍ · · · ·**

 

"I'm going to go take a shower,” Harry says as he leaves the table, not bothering to put his bowl in the dishwasher.

Stirring his cereal without actually eating any, Louis sighs. “You haven't even finished half of your breakfast, love.”

“Yeah, I'm not hungry.”

And with that, Harry walks out of the room. He doesn't look at Louis, he doesn't kiss him, nothing.

Louis lets go of his spoon and rubs his face with both hands, wondering what to do. Like Harry said, Louis has a way of knowing when Harry needs to be left alone and when he doesn't, and right now Louis feels like he should follow him.

Once he's upstairs, Louis knocks on the bathroom door from where he hears water running.

“Haz, can I come in?”

He waits until he hears a soft 'yes' before he enters.

Harry is standing in front of the sink, leaning on it as he stares at himself in the mirror. He directs his gaze a little to the side to watch Louis coming closer behind him, and Louis is happy to see no traces of tears.

Cautiously, Louis puts one hand on Harry's shoulder. When he doesn't feel him react, he puts the other one on his hip. Together they stare at their reflection, until Louis decides to say something.

“You know, Harry, I completely understand if you want to be alone sometimes. But, please, just tell me instead of shutting me out, you know I hate that.”

His words go quiet as he finishes the sentence because he really does hate it, always has. It goes back to the days when they were on the X Factor and Harry was so nervous to go on stage, yet he'd rather lock himself in the bathroom than be honest with his band mates, and apparently little has changed.

Harry lowers his head and nods before he turns around to face Louis, leaning his bum against the sink. His finger tracing the lines of the tattoo on Louis' chest that's peaking out from under his t-shirt, he says, “I know, I'm sorry.”

“It's okay.”

“No, it's not,” Harry sighs, his brows furrowed. “It's that... Everything was going so well. I was doing great, we were doing great. I think it's just now starting to hit me that William really is gone, and I don't want that to change us.”

Louis frowns and strokes the side of Harry's face. “You think this changes anything between us? Babe, I understand that you're sad – how could you not be? I knew that you were trying to suppress your grief, but I also knew that it had to come out some time. You can't hide from your emotions, you know.”

Nodding again, Harry grins a little. “You're one to talk.”

“Experience, my dear.”

Harry kisses Louis' lips quickly before he says, “I want to do the ceremony soon.”

“Are you sure?” Louis sounds concerned, and he is, because for the first time in forever, he doesn't know what's best for Harry. He's not sure what's going on inside that pretty head, and it's not like he always wants to know, but in a situation like this he does.

Harry moves his hand from Louis' chest to his neck, giving Louis goosebumps, and he says, “I'm sure. I mean, I missed the cremation. I need some kind of way to say goodbye to him, to find closure.”

“Would you rather have a ceremony just for him and the wedding later? Because I understand if you do,” Louis offers as he tilts his head to the side to meet Harry's touch.

Shaking his head, Harry says, “No, I want to have one ceremony, just like how you described it this morning.”

Louis nods and opens his arms, ready to hug his husband. Harry leans into him and wraps his arms around Louis' waist.

“We're going to be alright, love, you and me,” Louis whispers into his ear. “Eventually.”

 

**· · · · · · · ·**

 

“Babe, I'm going to pick up James in a minute, do you want to come with me or would you rather stay here?” Louis shouts from the bathroom.

He's just finishing styling his hair, and he realizes he's starting to look better every day. His skin is back to its natural color, and his cheeks aren't as hollow anymore. The bags under his eyes have disappeared, and the sparkle in his eyes has returned. The fact that he got a haircut last week doesn't hurt, either.

“No, I'll go with you!” Harry shouts back from the bedroom.

When Louis crosses the hall to their bedroom, he holds his step in the doorway and leans against the frame. “You ready, then?”

He stands there watching Harry as he's putting on his brown suede booties, and it's messing with his mind. The sunlight beaming in through the open window lights Harry's face just right and Louis can't believe he's his husband. A smile appears on his face, and he doesn't even try to stop it.

“What?” Harry asks when he notices Louis in the doorway. “Louis Tomlinson, are you checking me out?”

Louis grins and makes his way to the bed. Playing with Harry's loose hair when he gets there, he says, “Yes, Harry Styles, I am.”

Harry shrugs and grins back. “Could you please stop calling me Styles? I've been a Tomlinson for five years, you know.”

“Styles is just such a nice name.” Louis' now moved his hands to Harry's shoulders and starts to massage them, just small squeezes that he knows Harry loves.

Tilting his head to the side, Harry frowns but keeps his grin and says, “Then why did we ever change it to Tomlinson?”

Louis laughs as he climbs on the bed, one leg on each side of Harry, and he sits down on his thighs. “Shut up.” Stroking his chest, he asks, “Are you okay, though, Haz?”

“I am.” Harry nods slowly. “I'm going to have my ups and downs, but for now I'm okay.”

Louis startles a bit when Harry puts both his hands on Louis' bum, and Harry laughs at his reaction before he continues.

“For now I'm just excited to see James soon and to have a nice day with what's left of our family. It might not be complete anymore, but it's not any less perfect to me.”

Louis looks at his hands as they're still stroking the fabric covering Harry's chest. He unbuttons the two lowest buttons and slides his hands underneath Harry's shirt. His skin feels cold under Louis' hands and Louis can feel him tremble slightly when he touches him.

“Are you cold, Mister Tomlinson?” Louis' voice is deep but soft as he stares into his husband's eyes.

The sunlight in the room hits his eyes just right, making the green a little lighter than usual, and they remind Louis of a lake. Just as he thinks he would love to drown in them, Harry slides his hands up over Louis' bum and lets his right stop at the band of his boxers, while his left slides under Louis' shirt and softly scratches his skin. He moves his right to the middle of Louis' lower back and let's one finger slip into his underwear, just where the parting of his cheeks begins.

“A little,” Harry says under his breath. His lips are slightly parted, and instead of looking Louis in the eye, he stairs at his mouth.

Like he's in a hurry, Louis unbuttons the rest of Harry's shirt and throws it aside. He pushes him down against the mattress and Harry gasps looking up at him, begging him to kiss him, but Louis continues to undress him. When Harry realizes that he has to wait for a kiss, he quickly removes Louis' shirt as well and undoes the zipper of his jeans. Louis first pulls Harry's down, along with his boxers and then his own. While he unzips Harry's booties, Louis kisses his inner thighs and Harry moans quietly. Knowing what it does to him, Louis opens his mouth and softly bites the thin skin there. Louis laughs when Harry moans again, this time much louder.

“God, Lou.”

Kicking off his shoes and clothes, Harry grabs Louis' shoulders and pulls him up. Louis starts to kiss him as soon as he lands on top of him – their bodies pressed together, Harry's legs wrapped around Louis' waist. While Louis continues to kiss Harry, the latter presses his hips up against Louis' trying to send him a message that is all too familiar to him.

“You want it again, you sure?” Louis breathes. “I can take it if you want.”

Harry shakes his head under Louis'. “No, fuck me.”

Louis' eyes widen in surprise, because Harry rarely talks like that. Louis is the one who calls it fucking, whereas Harry likes to use phrases like 'making love'. It's cute, really.

Harry slides a bit lower under Louis, raising his legs to make it easier for Louis to reach. While they kiss, Louis gently rubs Harry with his finger and eventually slips it in. With Harry's moaning as his encouragement, he lets a second one slide in, and he watches as Harry shuts his eyes and opens his mouth.

After Louis moves his fingers in and out for a while, gradually moving faster, Harry breathes, “Enough, just stick it in,” and with a loud groan, Louis does as Harry says.

They try to kiss while Louis thrusts inside of Harry, but eventually give up because they can't control their mouths – gasping for air and moaning. Harry buries his nails in Louis' shoulder as he screams his name, and that's enough for Louis to climax.

Louis rests his forehead on Harry's chest panting, but when he realizes that Harry hasn't come yet, he slides off the bed

and pulls Harry to the edge. Sitting on his knees between Harry's legs, he takes Harry in his mouth and starts licking and sucking, while Harry starts to moan again and tries to find grip in Louis' hair. Pushing Louis' head down hard, Harry orgasms deep in his mouth. He doesn't make a sound, but his whole body twitches from the sensation and his breath continues to hitch.

“We really have to work on this again,” Harry says when he's got his breathing under control. “It used to take us longer than this and my bum is so sore.”

Louis grins as he gets in position to spoon Harry. “I offered to bottom, so don't complain now. And at least I can be sure now that you didn't have sneaky sex while you were in your coma.”

“Yeah.”

Smiling back, Harry rushes a hand through his hair. “Can I show up at Niall's like this, or do I look like I've just been fucked behind the bleachers by my high school boyfriend?”

Louis laughs a loud laugh and frowns. “What happened to you during that coma of yours? You never used to say 'fuck'.”

“I know.” Harry frowns back, but he keeps the grin on his face. “I thought I'd try it out, but it doesn't suit me, does it?”

“No, it doesn't. But you look handsome as ever, so get dressed and we're good to go.”

 

**· · · · · · · ·**

 

“Again, Lou, I can walk.”

Louis pushes Harry's wheelchair towards the trunk of their car while Harry sits down in the passenger seat.

“'I know you can,” Louis says as he starts to fold the chair. “But I figured we should keep it in the car so that we always have it with us, just in case you need it.”

After he closes the trunk, Louis gets behind the wheel. Harry rolls his eyes at him and sighs. “You worry too much.”

“I'm not worried, I take precautions. There's a difference, my dear.” Louis leans to the side to kiss Harry before he starts the engine.

Harry smiles fondly. “I guess I should love you for that.”

Winking, Louis says, “You do love me for that.”

They don't talk for the rest of the drive, but share the peaceful silence. Before the accident, they used to listen to music in the car, but these days music seems to give Harry headaches. While Louis worries that it might always will, Harry believes he will recover but it just takes time.

One time at the hospital, the week after Harry woke up from his coma, Louis was listening to some music while Harry was asleep, and he woke up in a panic and begged Louis to turn it off. His therapist worries it might be because the last time he heard music was during the fire, but Harry denies it. Louis' not sure who to believe, since Harry might be acting tougher than he really is.

Three nights after Harry woke up, he had a nightmare about the night of the fire. Instead of himself, he saw Louis lying beside William – his body burnt and his heart still. He woke up crying and it took Louis twenty minutes to calm him down.

Louis has asked him several times if he's had more nightmares, but the answer is always no, even though Louis knows that Harry is up at unusual hours. Because he doesn't want to bug him and come across as overprotective, Louis has tried to let it rest, but it hasn't been easy for him. He'd rather hold Harry's hand every second of every day and always know what's going on inside of him, but he knows that's not possible – or healthy.

So, they drive the car in silence.

There are tons of things Louis would like to ask him – have you had any nightmares recently? Are you sad right now? Do you need anything? What would you like me to do? Anything to be able to do what's best for Harry. Knowing that asking all those questions wouldn't do any good, Louis just holds Harry's hand and says nothing.

He watches him from the corner of his eye, and sees that he's watching the trees blurring into one as they drive past them. He looks at them like it's the first time he's ever seen trees, and Louis smiles at his innocence. Harry doesn't look at them like that because he hasn't seen them in almost six months, he looks at them like that because that is how Harry looks at things – at life.

Louis doesn't know anyone who appreciates little things more than Harry does, and not just things like sunsets, either. Lots of people enjoy those things. Harry is the kind of person who could talk to a ladybug like it's the most beautiful creature on Earth without ever seeming childish. He's pure like that. Even though Louis isn't like that at all – and he loves to mock Harry for it – he loves that Harry is.

In school, Louis once read a poem that he never fully agreed with – he knew it was true, but he felt like there was something behind it, he just couldn't figure out what. Thinking about it now in the car, he could recite it without giving it much thought.

Part of why he remembers it so well, is that his teacher didn't agree with him using that poem. He was only fifteen years old, and he had to choose a poem to write an essay about. This poem had somehow always stayed in the back of his mind, so he choose it for his essay. The thing is, it was for his English class, and he was supposed to use a poem by a British writer, but this one was written by an American. Because he's never been one to agree with authorities, he had an argument with the teacher about it, and eventually had to go see the principal. Somehow he was able to convince him that it was a good poem to use, whether it was by a British writer or not, and he got to write his essay about it.

It didn't end up long or well written, of course, because even though Louis had fought for his right to write about it, he couldn't care less about the actual essay. To him, it was more about making a statement and simply pissing off his teacher.

Anyway, that same year he read a book and came across the poem again. In the book, two friends talked about what it meant, and one of them explained it like when you're a kid, you're gold. When you're a kid everything is new, like dawn. It's just that when you get used to everything it becomes day. He told his friend that he's gold, and that he should stay gold, because it's a good way to be.

When Louis read that explanation, it made a little more sense to him, but he still knew there had to be something _more_. It made sense to him reading about the character in the book, but he'd never met anyone like that – gold.

He didn't think about the poem or the book for years, until he met Harry and it suddenly came back to him like a memory, a dream he'd once had. It happened when they were at Leeds Festival. One night it was raining, and Louis along with everyone else there hated it. They were complaining about their wet clothes and the water leaking into their shoes, when Harry suddenly pointed out the beauty of it. Hiding under an umbrella with three other people, they were pressed up against each other, and somehow Harry turned it into something beautiful.

He said something about how the rain would help the grass grow again after being crushed beneath the feet of thousands of visitors and how it made them cozy up under the umbrella, even though they were cold. In that moment, it suddenly hit Louis – Harry is gold.

He whispered it without realizing, and Harry didn't hear it over the rain and thunder above them. He just shouted 'what?', and Louis told him he'd explain it some other time, but he never did. He's always kept the poem in mind to give to him someday. Whether he reads it to him, or writes it on a card, someday he'll let him know, because it's the best way to describe the beauty of Harry's character. He's gold.

“Haz, do you remember at Leeds when we were hiding under the umbrella that night and I whispered something?” Louis asks as he switches lanes. “You couldn't hear it, so I said I'd explain it later, but I never did.”

Harry shakes the back of his head slowly against the glass window. His brow furrowed, he says, “I'm sorry, no.”

“That's okay.” Louis looks to the side to smile at him and it's a warm smile, full of love. “I do.”

 

**· · · · · · · ·**

 

"The Tomlinsons, welcome,” Niall's accent welcomes them into his house. “Oh my God, you guys shagged.”

Louis' eyes widen in shock. “Niall –“

“Yeah, I can tell,” Niall says with a broad grin. “Harry's eyes are puffy and his cheeks are red. And you...” His eyes move up and down Louis' body. “Well, you just look more satisfied than I've seen you in a long time.”

Harry shakes his head in embarrassment as he walks past Niall to look for James. “Stop it, Ni. I see nothing's changed here.”

“I've just added two annoying housemates,” Niall jokes.

If you'd compare Niall's place to that of Louis and Harry's, it would be quite clear that the latter is a family home, while Niall lives alone. Where the Tomlinson residence is a big beach house with light colored furniture and decorations – and toys everywhere – Niall's is smaller and more modern. The walls in the living room are red, and the parquet is gray, with a black fake fur rug on it. The couches are black and white, with bright red colored pillows on them. The kitchen is entirely black, with lots of little spotlights in the ceiling. There's a massive hot tub in the backyard, but he rarely uses it. One might say it's a great place to have a party at, but he's only ever thrown one, and that was right after he moved in two tears ago.

“James, come say hi to your daddies,” Niall shouts upstairs as he pats Louis on the back and closes the front door.

Louis pushes his hand away and laughs. “You've always been a dick, you know that?”

“Yeah, I do. Come in, Zayn and Liam are in the kitchen.”

“Daddy!”

Louis looks up at James running down the stairs – of course on his socks – and smiles. “Hey, boy.” He picks him up and wraps his arms around him, to see that he's carrying a drawing.

He takes the piece of paper out of his small hands and studies the picture. There are three stick figures that Louis guesses represent himself, James and Harry, the classic yellow sun in the right upper corner of the paper, and another figure that's more cape than man. For a second he assumes that it's Zayn, but then he spots a bit of red.

“Is that Liam, sweetie?” Louis asks and kisses the side of James' head, which nods up and down.

“Leeyum,” he confirms.

Louis laughs and shouts, “Honey, look what's your son's made.”

They meet Harry in the middle of the living room as he comes walking back to see James. Louis hands the boy over and puts his hand on the small of Harry's back as he shows him the drawing in his other.

“My son's an artist!” Harry squeals as he looks at James with an exaggerated surprised look on his face, causing James to giggle and bury himself in his father's chest.

As Niall comes walking in behind Louis, he says, “What a happy family.”

“Jealous?” Louis grins as he keeps stroking Harry's back.

“Sometimes. But I could just put you both in a coma and steal James from you.” Niall pricks James' belly as he walks by.

“Ah, that was your master plan all along, hm?” Louis says. “Well, better luck next time, mate.”

Harry looks at him a bit startled, so Louis kisses his cheek and says, “I'm sorry, it's not something to joke about. That's just our way of dealing with things, you know? Boys will be boys, I guess.”

“I guess.” Harry nods and turns his head back to James. “Did you have fun, J-man?” He frees a lock of his curls from the tight grip of James' fist.

“I did,” James confirms as he just takes another. “He let me go in the hot tub.” His face is all pride, and Louis suppresses a smile, furrowing his brow instead.

“I didn't pack you any swimwear, did I?”

“No, but he let me go naked. He said that the girls would love it, but I didn't understand.”

Harry laughs at Louis as the latter directs him to the kitchen, putting slight pressure against the small of his back with his hand.

“Niall,” Louis says sarcastically. “May I remind you that our son is three years old and that we'd like to keep him away from the opposite gender until he's like, I don't know, twenty five?”

“Hey, I met you when I was sixteen.” Harry looks a bit offended, so Louis leans in for a kiss.

“I'm not of the opposite gender, my love.”

Harry leans in as well to let their lips lock, laughing into the kiss and sending a rush of warmth through Louis' body.

“Well, what do you know,” Zayn says suddenly as he gets down from his stool at the bar in the kitchen. “Harry Styles out and about. Kissing and everything.” He gives Harry a short hug, trying not to squash James in between them. “It's good to see you out of the hospital, lad.”

“I couldn't agree more, come here.” Liam stands up as well and opens his arms, ready to embrace Harry, and Louis notices that the light washing in through the kitchen windows makes the brown of his eyes look a dark gold.

“Thanks, mates.” Harry's voice sounds muffled against Liam's sweater, so Louis takes James from him to make the hug a bit more comfortable.

“Are you all better now, Dad?” The look on James' face is hopeful as he looks at Harry while he wraps his little arms around Louis' neck, his cheek squashed against his father's.

A smile graces Harry's face like the sun against the morning sky as he watches the both of them, and Louis loves him. He has loved him for fourteen years and he's in love with him now and it's amazing. It's little moments like this when it hits him, and he doesn't think he will ever get used to the overwhelming feeling – the feeling of being whole and complete.

“I'm not quite there yet, but I'm feeling a lot better, yes. Thank you, James.”

“Anyone fancy a d– What the hell?”

Everyone looks up at Niall, who runs towards the window at the front of the house, looking outside with big blue eyes. “The street is flooded with press!” he shouts.

“What?” Louis asks in shock. “I didn't even notice that people were following us.”

“Me neither.” Harry's voice is soft, and he stands a bit closer to Louis, stroking his back.

When Louis looks up at him, he realizes that he's not stroking his back to support him, but because he's looking for support himself. Louis' gotten quite used to the paparazzi, because he used to see them daily at the hospital for the past three weeks, but because Harry left the hospital quite late in the day, they'd already left and he didn't see any. Just going outside is a bit much on him right now, let alone with people surrounding him.

Louis kisses James' forehead and puts him on the floor before he grabs Harry's hand and directs him to the corner in the back of the room, out of hearing distance. He holds Harry's face with both hands, and softly strokes one cheekbone with his thumb.

“You're okay, Haz,” he whispers. As soon as Louis speaks, Harry's eyes fill with tears, the water creating little pools of green, and Louis' not sure what that means. “As long as we're inside, they can't reach us.”

Harry's voice breaks as he says, “I don't want to go back to that life, Louis. I can't.”

His fists hold Louis' shirt so tightly that Louis feels it pulling on his shoulders, and he lets go of Harry's face to take his hands in his instead, removing the weight of them.

“I'm sure you won't have to, we won't have to. They just want a picture of us with James, that's it. As soon as they know that there's no tragic story and you're not in a wheelchair, they'll back off.”

“Do you want me to send them away?” Niall asks from the front of the room, his voice worried as he turns to face Louis and Harry.

Louis opens his mouth to answer, but before he can make a sound Harry says, “yes,” and he shakes his head.

“Harry, sweetheart, I'm not sure that's the best solution right now.”

“What is the best solution, then?” Harry snaps.

He tries to pull his hands out of Louis' grip, but Louis tightens it and says, “For now I think we should just let them be and hope that eventually they'll leave. If they don't, we can decide what to do later. And if you really do want to send them away, I think it's better if I go outside than Niall.”

Harry stares into Louis' eyes as he tries to decide what to do, and Louis wraps his arms around his neck to comfort him.

“I love you. Please know that you're safe, I won't let anything happen to you.”

It isn't until Louis pulls Harry in even closer that he notices that Harry's body has gone limp in his arms, and a rush of panic shoots through his own.

“Harry.”

He's trying to stay calm, he is, but when Harry doesn't respond and Louis' knees start to buckle under his weight, Louis sees that his eyes are nearly shut, showing only stripes of white.

“Harry,” he repeats as he lowers him to the floor and kneels beside him.

It's strange – Harry doesn't necessarily look different. He's

a bit pale and his eyes are turned upwards, but his face hasn't changed. Louis isn't sure if that's a positive thing, though, because the expression on it still reads panic.

He says his name one more time while he tries to wake him up by softly shaking his shoulders, but again he doesn't respond.

“Lads, he's not responding,” he shouts, and he's no longer trying to hide his concern. He tries to lower his voice as he speaks to Harry, but the sound is shaky and he sounds scared.

“Love, can you hear me?”

Liam lands on his feet after he jumps over the couch and kneels down next to Harry. He tries to wake him up in all the ways Louis has already tried – saying his name over and over again, shaking his shoulders, slapping his cheeks – and he too starts to panic when there's no response.

“Fuck,” he whispers.

When James suddenly starts to cry, Louis shouts, “Zayn, get him out of here.”

Zayn does as Louis says and picks the boy up off the floor. “Come here, buddy,” he says softly, and he tries to comfort him as he carries him upstairs.

“Is there anything I can do – should I call 911?” Niall asks while he jumps up and down nervously behind Liam.

Louis sighs. “I want to talk to his doctor, I need to – fuck, my phone is in the car.” He strokes Harry's hair as he changes his position, too restless to sit still, and rushes his other hand through his own.

Niall looks at the crowd outside and says, “I'll go get it, I just hope they'll let me through.”

Nodding, Louis quickly takes the car keys out of the pocket of his jeans and gives them to Niall, sending him a thankful look that he hopes he understands.

“I'll be right back,” Niall says.

Only he isn't right back. Louis nervously directs his gaze back and forth at Harry and the window, only to see Niall talking to the photographers, furiously throwing his hands up in the air.

“Why isn't Niall doing anything?” Louis hisses.

Liam sighs while he checks Harry's pulse. “He's probably asking them to let him through and explaining the situation to them. He can't exactly push them away, he has a reputation to protect too.”

“Yeah, well, Harry has his life to protect.” Louis' eyes are now fixed on Harry's face, and he's starting to sound more and more impatient, losing his grip on the situation – if he had any to begin with.

“Don't be so dramatic,” Liam huffs. “He's not going to die.”

“Then tell me what's going to happen,” Louis snaps.

“He's going to wake up,” Liam snaps back, not taking any of Louis' impatience right now. “He just fainted, probably just panicked. So just. Calm. Down.”

Louis leans in closer to Liam and hisses through his teeth, “I don't know what the hell is happening to my husband right now, so don't tell me to calm down.” He sits back down and quickly looks at Harry to see that nothing's changed before he faces Liam again, shaking his head slightly as he says, “I nearly lost him and he woke up barely three weeks ago. What do you expect me to do?”

When Liam doesn't answer but looks down at the floor instead, Louis suddenly stands up. “For fuck's sake, I'm not going to sit by and do nothing.”

Liam quickly gets up as well and he tries to stop him, but Louis' outside the door before he can. He roughly pushes one of the photographers away from Niall, not fully realizing what he's doing. All he can think about is Harry lying on the floor, his eyes rolled back inside his head. He knows in the back of his mind that Liam is probably right and that Harry will wake up soon, but he can't risk it. Not after everything that's happened. He can't let anything happen to him. He just can't.

The photographer pushes Louis back while he flashes his camera at him, and Louis looks for a way to his car. There isn't one. His car is only two meters away, but there's people everywhere, and not just paparazzi. The way people are gossiping into each other's ears tells him they're neighbors who came outside to see what the fuzz is about, and he wants to scream at them. He wants to scream that this isn't some spectacle, that Harry lying there on the floor isn't entertaining.

“Let me through before you make me do something we'll

both regret,” Louis shouts at no one in particular, Niall's hand on his back for support.

“What is going on with Harry right now, is he okay?” a woman shouts at Louis, completely ignoring his statement as she pushes a recorder in his face.

Louis' voice now sounds more desperate than angry when he says, “No, he isn't, so please let me through to my car!”

Another photographer pushes Niall aside to take a picture of Harry through the window. As a reflex, Louis raises his fist at him, and the man huffs a sarcastic laugh. “You wouldn't dare, you little faggot,” he says.

Louis feels his nails pinch the palm of his hand, but it doesn't hurt like it normally would. “I would do anything to protect my family,” he hisses back.

The man laughs at Louis, his chin jiggling as he does so, and says, “Yeah, look how that worked out the last time.”

His comment hurts Louis deep inside his stomach, like he just punched him with both fists. He wants to scream that it's not his fault, that he did everything he could to save William, but he can't get any words out. He just swings his arm at the photographer, but before his fist reaches his jaw, Liam yells, “Louis, come here right now.”

He quickly turns to Niall and grabs his shoulders. “Get that phone.”

Niall nods, and while Louis runs inside, he hears him say, “You have no right to speak to him like that, asshole. Now let me through, for God's sake.”

A sigh of relief escapes Louis' mouth when he sees that Harry's awake now, still on the floor with his head in Liam's lap, and he rushes over to them and squads down next to Harry, grabbing his face with both hands, checking if he's alright. “Oh, baby,” he whispers.

“Was that necessary, Louis?” Liam asks irritated. “Just imagine the headlines.”

Ignoring Liam, Louis focuses solely on Harry, who looks a bit disoriented but okay. He caresses his cheek as he tries to get his own breathing steady.

“Louis, don't ignore me,” Liam half-shouts, and Louis remembers why they didn't get along when they first got together as a band. He loves Liam, he does, but he has this need to control everything the other boys do, and he's never agreed with Louis' behavior. Not back then, and apparently not now.

Shaking his head, Louis says calmly, “I couldn't care less about headlines, Liam. I never have, you should know me better than that.”

Harry smiles faintly when Louis helps him sit up, leaning against his chest. He closes his eyes and Louis massages his shoulder softly while he places small kisses on the top of his head.

Sniffing sarcastically as he watches them, Liam says, “Yes, you showed how much you don't care by being in a fake relationship with Eleanor for years.”

Getting angry and impatient, Louis looks up from Harry to face Liam and says, “What the hell, Liam? I did that to protect Harry, you know that. He cared about the headlines because he was scared, and our management cared, but not me.”

“So basically you were the hero taking the fall to save us all, weren't you?” Liam wipes some dust off the back of his jeans as he stands up and leans on the table behind him, and there's this smug look on his face that Louis can't stand.

“Yeah, I guess I was,” he says, sounding just as sarcastic as Liam now. He sighs loudly as he rushes a hand through his brown mess of hair. “You know, I'm sorry I wasn't more like you back then.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Louis rolls his eyes because Liam knows damn well what it's supposed to mean. “The perfect heterosexual in the perfect relationship with the perfect girl.”

Liam throws his hands up in the air in disbelieve. “That has absolutely nothing to do with this!”

“That has everything to do with this,” Louis snaps. “But hey, now I'm the one in the perfect marriage while you're getting a divorce, so what do you know?”

Liam just stands there and stares at Louis. His eyes are a dark shade of brown and Louis can't read them, and it's making him nervous. Eventually Liam just shakes his head, sighs, and leaves the room without another word.

“Jesus,” Louis whispers to himself while Harry moves against him, sitting up and turning a bit to look at him.

“Nice one, honey.”

Harry doesn't sound angry, but smiles at him, even though it's slight. It's not a smile that says that he agrees with him, but more a smile that says 'I know you'.

“I'm sorry.”

Louis' voice is still no more but a whisper, and Harry grabs his hand to squeeze it shortly, making the short hairs on Louis' arm stand up.

“For some reason you've always felt like you owe me an apology after you do something wrong,” Harry says slowly, stretching the syllables as he speaks them. “I hate to break it to you, but he's the one you need to apologize to.”

When Louis just nods and the corners of his mouth curl up slightly for just a second, Harry adds, “I'm sorry too.”

“What, now you're apologizing to me?”

Staring at his hand in Harry's, Louis huffs a soft laugh, but Harry lifts his chin with a finger to make him face him, like a parent lecturing their child. His face is all serious when he says, “I'm sorry for putting you through all this.”

Louis starts to say that it's not his fault, because it isn't, but halfway down the sentence, he grabs one of James' toys from the floor and throws it across the room.

“Fuck!”

“It's okay to be angry, Lou.”

Harry's face is still nothing but understanding as he tries to stroke the side of Louis' face, and Louis can't look at it. When he's mad at himself, he can't face Harry, especially if he still looks at him like he's the most beautiful man he's ever seen.

“No, it's not!” Louis rubs his eyes angrily and accidentally scratches the soft skin of one of their lids in the process. “God, I'm so tired of people telling me it's okay to do this, to feel that, but as soon as I do, I get a lecture from Niall, or Liam, or your mum telling me how to do things better. 'It's okay to be sad, but...' I don't know how to handle this!” Finally facing Harry, Louis continues, “It's great that everybody else seems to know, but I don't and I'm the one stuck in this situation.”

Harry now takes both Louis' hands in his and rubs their backs with his thumb. “You're not stuck. It's getting better. It might sound ironic coming from me, and I know that it sucks right now, but we'll get through it. You said it yourself – everything will be okay as long as we have each other.”

Finally calming down, Louis kisses Harry's lips shortly – just a small peck to let him know that none of this is his fault. It's most likely his own, but he's done thinking about it. As if closing the subject he asks, “How are you feeling?”

“Just a little lightheaded, but–”

Harry is interrupted by Niall running towards them, who seems to be out of breath as he says, “Guys, I've got the phone.”

When Louis stands up to take it from him, he sees there's blood on Niall's face. “Mate, what the hell happened to your forehead?”

“Got hit by a camera.” Niall gives the phone to Louis and wipes some blood away with the back of his hand. “Don't worry, it was an accident.”

Louis shakes his head while he looks for Doctor Sawyer's number in his phone. “Bloody paparazzi,” he whispers. “Niall, could you keep an eye on Harry – give him some water, food, whatever he needs? I'll be back in a sec.”

 

**· · · · · · · ·**

 

When Louis crosses the hallway upstairs, he hears James' little laugh above Zayn's voice, and he sees Liam sitting on Niall's bed. Even though the door is open, he knocks and waits for him to answer.

“Liam, can I come in?” he asks. It's not easy for him – going in to apologize to Liam, but he realizes that he's thirty two years old, and if he doesn't grow up now, he never will.

“What for?” Liam says, and he doesn't even look up from his folded hands in his lap. “So you can use my failed marriage as a punchline again?”

Louis shakes his head against the wooden door frame. “No, to do the opposite. I've come to apologize.”

Now looking up at Louis, Liam sounds sarcastic again when he says, “Imagine that, an apology from the Mighty Tomlinson himself.”

“I'm not that boy you used to know anymore, Liam,” Louis says, because it's true. He cautiously crosses the room

towards the bed and sits down half a meter away from Liam, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight.

“Actually, I wish you were,” Liam says turning to face Louis, and he sounds tired, old. “Because he never spoke to me like you just did. Is this how you speak to people now? Do you talk to Harry like that?”

Louis frowns and shakes his head again. “No.”

“No, of course not.” Liam huffs a laugh. “Because Harry is perfect, right?”

“Are you seriously comparing our friendship to my love for Harry right now?” Staring at the man sitting beside him, Louis says, “You were my friend a long time ago. He is the father of my childr– Son.”

Liam shakes his head. “Actually I was comparing our friendship to how it used to be, but apparently we're not friends anymore, considering your choice of words.”

Louis nods slowly and swallows the lump in his throat. “Well, if you want to talk about friendship; where were you, hm? Where were you when I needed you most?”

Startled by Louis' question, Liam stares at Louis with big brown eyes and says, “Louis, I didn't know you needed me.”

“Oh spare me, Liam. You knew exactly what was going on – with Harry, with William... I didn't expect you to be at my doorstep the next day, but a phone call would have been nice.”

“You had Niall, and–”

“Liam, please stop.”

Louis realizes that he's tired – really, really tired. He's tired of holding in his emotions and having to explain them when he lets them out. He doesn't owe Liam an explanation, so why does he feel like he does?

After fidgeting with his hands for a while, Liam says, “Why don't you say this stuff to Zayn?”

Louis shrugs. “Because he's not on my back like you are. He seems to realize that he has no right to interfere now when he didn't bother to for so long.” Because Liam doesn't respond, Louis adds, “And speaking of punchlines, you brought up my relationship with Eleanor, even though you know that that was the hardest time of my life, and worse for Harry. I don't even know why the hell I'm apologizing.”

He waits a second, giving Liam a chance to say something, anything, before he sighs and stands up. He's almost back at the door when Liam's voice stops him.

“Lou, you're right. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have mentioned her. It's just that I've never been able to understand.”

“What is there to understand, Li?” Louis says as he turns around and throws his arms up at his sides. “What I understand is that back then you and the rest of the boys thought that Harry and I were young. Too young to jeopardize our career for love, right? We _were_ young. And foolish. But we're here now. It sucked, it really did, but if holding a girl's hand a couple of times a year is what got us here today, then I can only really tell you one thing and that is that it was worth it.”

“I guess it was.” Liam smiles softly. “I'm not sure if it's the right time, but can I tell you something?”

Back at his spot against the door frame, Louis shrugs. “Yeah.”

Liam sighs and smiles faintly. “I screwed up with Sophia. I let her slip out of my hands, and I didn't care when I was doing it. Pretending I didn't notice is getting old, it's not true.”

Louis nods, but he doesn't understand what this has got to do with what they just discussed. It had been obvious to him all along that of course Liam was to blame for at least part of it – it takes two to tango, and whoever tries to deny that simple fact is a selfish prick. He might not always like Liam, but he knows that that's not him.

“I guess why I got mad at you downstairs,” Liam continues. “Is that you reminded me of how I used to be, you know? I used to protect my family at all cost, and I used to worry when Melissa so much as coughed, and somewhere along the way I lost that. You reminded me of myself, and I envy you for still caring so much after all these years.

“But,” he sighs. “I spoke to Sophia. She called me last night, and even though she still seems to be mad at me, she's missed me ever since I've been here. She wants me to come home and see if we can work things out. So I might not have been so bad after all.”

Louis nods again from where he's standing. “You owe it to yourself to fight for it this time, Li, and to them,” he says.

Getting up from the side of the boxspring, Liam smiles as he walks over to Niall's dresser standing against a long red wall, where he starts going through the stuff standing on top of it.

Louis watches him as he picks up hair products, perfumes, and all kinds of other stuff. He can't really tell what he's doing, maybe he's reading the labels, but it doesn't really matter.

“When are you going back?” he asks.

Liam puts down a bottle and turns around, leaning back against the dresser with his arms crossed over his chest. A smile lights up his face as he replies, “I'm flying home tomorrow morning.”

“And Zayn? Is he going back too?”

“No.” Liam shakes his head. “He's staying with Niall at least for as long as Perrie's away. There's not much use for him to go home, at this point.”

Trying not to grin too enthusiastically, Louis says, “Well, I guess you'll have to fly back out here soon.”

Liam's brow furrows in confusion, so he clarifies, “For our wedding.”

“What?” The frown on Liam's face disappears, and his eyes widen.

“Harry and I are having another wedding.”

When Liam starts to laugh Louis says, “You know it was Harry's idea, don't even mock me.” He can't help but laugh too, and it's nice. “But he's right – there's no better time for a new start than the present. Part of the ceremony will be dedicated to William. Even though you're being an absolute arse today, I still want you to be there.”

“Thanks,” Liam says softly as he chuckles some more. “When do you think it will be?”

Louis shrugs thinking, because they haven't really planned anything yet. “Not sure. Harry said he wants to do it soon, but we have to invite people so I'd say in a couple of weeks.”

“Okay.” Liam smiles.

“Okay,” Louis repeats. “Well, I think I should head downstairs, see how Harry's doing and all.”

He smiles one more time and then turns around in the doorway, but Liam is suddenly behind him and grabs his wrist. When he turns back to face him, Louis notices that his face has gone serious.

“I really am sorry, Louis,” he says, and the look in his eyes tells Louis he means it.

They're not close anymore, but they used to be, and Louis still knows him well enough to tell how he feels by the look in his eyes. As much as he would like to pretend that whatever friendship they used to share in the past is long gone, he can't deny that it's still there, even if it's just a shade of it, and it probably always will be.

“You know, we've never fully seen eye to eye, but at the end of the day I still consider you my brother,” Liam offers carefully. “An apology isn't going to help you now, but I really am sorry I wasn't there for you when you needed me. It'd been so long since we'd last spoken that I wasn't sure how you'd react if I contacted you. I see now that I should've just reached out.”

Smiling, Louis nods in understanding. “I know, it's okay.”

“What did his doctor even tell you?' Liam asks as they enter the hallway together.

“That it was probably nothing – he just panicked and fainted.” When Liam raises an eyebrow at Louis, he adds, “Yeah, yeah. You were right, you happy now?”

Grinning, Liam says, “No, I'm just glad he's okay. So, you're getting married again, huh?”

“Yes, it's crazy.” Louis shakes his head thinking about all they have to plan. “But the others don't know yet, including James, so don't mention it, okay?”

Smiling broadly, Liam raises his eyebrows again. “I'm the first to know?”

Louis laughs at his proud face and rubs a hand down his own. “Don't flatter yourself, I still think you're a dick.”

“I love you too, man.”

Ruffling Louis' hair, Liam pulls him in close to press a kiss on his temple, and Louis playfully pushes him away but laughs as he makes his way down the stairs.

“Have you two clowns calmed down a bit?” Niall says as he looks up at them as they enter the living room.

He's sitting on the couch next to Harry, who is wrapped up in a fleece blanket and drinking a cup of tea. Niall's closed the curtains because of the paparazzi still waiting outside, making the

room a bit dark and dusty, almost mysterious, and just a small line of sun lights Harry's face, making it seem paler than it actually is.

Louis nods smiling and walks over to Zayn sitting in one of the armchairs with James on his lap. When Louis reaches them, James stretches out his arms so that his father can pick him up.

“Come here, boy,” Louis whispers.

Niall gets up from the couch and says, “You can sit here, Lou, snuggle up to your hubby. Anyone else fancy a cup of tea?”

They all nod, even James who rarely drinks tea because it's too hot for him, so Louis laughs at him as he sits down next to Harry. He places James on his right thigh and holds out his left arm so that Harry can lean into him.

After he quickly finishes his tea, Harry puts the cup on the coffee table in front of them and then snuggles up to Louis, who wraps his arm around him tightly.

Louis presses a kiss on both Harry and James' heads and smiles. “All the boys I need.”

“You are such a cute family,” Zayn says. “To be honest, I hope to have one just like you one day.”

“What, with a man?” Niall jokes as he walks back in with six cups of tea, one a little less full than the others for James.

Zayn laughs loudly and claps his hands.”'No offense, but no thank you.” He leans over towards James and rubs his head. “But I would like to have such a cute son.”

“Batman!” James squeals as he pats Zayn's arm.

“Sorry, mate. He's all ours.”

Harry's voice is low and slow, like that of someone who is about to fall asleep, and Louis pulls him in even closer. He feels a sudden rush of love coming over him as he realizes how lucky he is to still have him and James. As if Harry feels it too, he turns around a bit against Louis and presses a kiss on his shoulder before he snuggles into him a little closer than before. Even after Harry removes his lips from Louis' shoulder, Louis still feels their warmth linger, and he never wants it to go away.

“Can I ask you something?” Liam asks as he grabs a cup of tea. “How did you two get together? I mean, I know how you guys met, but what happened?”

Louis frowns. “Didn't we tell you when we came out to you?”

Liam simply shakes his head and Niall says, “Not that I remember, no. We just listened to what you had to say and that was it.”

“We were too busy with the consequences.” Zayn's voice is quiet, almost apologetic, and he quickly looks over at Liam who nods in agreement.

Niall shifts in his seat and rushes a hand through his hair. “But for example, we never knew that you were gay, either of you. When did you tell each other?”

Louis smiles. “We didn't.”

Because his friends don't seem to understand, he shrugs. “We never did. We didn't even know we were until we met each other, we had always had girlfriends. As you know, it started while we were on the X Factor. We just got along really well and we didn't give it much thought at first. Until one night Harry crawled into my bed because he couldn't sleep. We just lay next to each other for a while, until suddenly Harry moved in closer and he told me he thought he was falling in love with me. I was too shocked to say anything at first, I didn't know how to respond. He was embarrassed and tried to leave the bed, but I pulled him back in and kissed him. That was pretty much it, it just kind of happened.”

Louis can't see Harry's face but he just _knows_ that he's smiling when he says, “It's not like we stayed up kissing, either. Tell them how cute it was, Lou.”

“Oh, shut up,” Louis laughs, embarrassed.

“No, tell us!”

Zayn sounds a little too enthusiastic, so Louis says, “Dude, you sound like you're in high school, not like you're thirty one years old.”

Trying to look offended, Zayn fails and can't help but laugh. “I don't care. I still want to know how two of my best mates fell in love.”

“Come on, Daddy,” James says suddenly, pulling on Louis' ear. “Tell the story.”

Unable to say no to his son, Louis shakes his head and continues the story. “We stayed up for hours, cuddling and describing what we liked so much about each other.”

Thinking he's finally done, Louis leans back and starts

drawing circles on Harry's arm with his fingertip.

“So, what was it?” Liam asks confused.

“What was what?”

With a sigh as if it's obvious, Liam clarifies, “What was it that you liked about each other?”

“Oh, you know...” Louis can feel his cheeks turn red, so he buries his face in James' curls.

The boy pulls away and pushes Louis back. “You have to tell us, Dad.”

Shaking his head again, Louis groans, “You've all got this boy wrapped around your fingers, haven't you?”

When he laughs, it's a hoarse laugh and he takes a sip of his tea.

“Well, what I liked about your father back when he was only 16 years old,” Louis says to James. “Were his curls, of course. Just like yours. And I thought the dimples in his cheeks were adorable. To be honest, I spent quite some time watching them during rehearsals and while you guys were goofing around with him.”

Harry looks up to give Louis a quick kiss.

“I'm not done yet,” Louis then says. “I fell in love with his voice the first time I heard it. It was strong and vulnerable at the same time – kind of like his personality. I noticed straight away that he was confident but also very humble. I really like that about him.” Looking down at Harry, he finishes by saying, “Well, I guess that's enough feathers up your ass for today.'”

That's what Louis does – try to play it off cool by making a joke when he's actually embarrassed. Although he knows perfectly well what he loves about Harry, and he tells him all the time, it's a whole other story to say it in front of their friends. He remembers one time during their second world tour, they climbed in one of the bunk beds in the tour bus – which was actually way too small for two men, but they didn't mind, because it only meant that they had to get really close to fit – and they spent hours admiring each other. Pointing out body parts that they loved, describing each others' mind, all of it.

They giggled a lot and moaned while they made out, and eventually Niall threw his pillow at them telling them to 'stop the romantic bullshit'. With an ache in his chest, Louis had climbed down and into his own bed, because he knew he wouldn't be able to stop kissing and touching Harry if he was that close.

He stayed awake for the rest of the night, listening to the sounds in the bus – the engine roaring beneath them, Niall's snoring, and a DVD playing that Liam and Zayn forgot to turn off before they fell asleep. Somehow, Louis managed to focus on Harry's breathing – deep and slow, interrupted by short snores from time to time. Louis focused on that sound while he tried to imagine their future.

His picture of it was different than how it turned out to be. Sure, he knew they would get married someday and maybe even have children, but he couldn't have known that they would move to Los Angeles – away from their families, starting their own. Expecting theirs to grow up in a different country than they were raised in. All his life, he heard people describe the love they felt for their children, but he didn't know his heart would be so full, so proud, it would feel like it could explode at any time.

But it is. And here _he_ is, holding his entire universe in his arms. Looking to his left, he sees his world – the ground he stands upon, the air he breathes. Looking to his right, he sees the sun that lights up his world. He sees himself floating somewhere in between. Maybe he doesn't give himself enough credit, because describing their family like this, it sounds like he's not relevant. That without him, the world would still turn, and the sun would still shine, but somewhere in the back of his mind, he knows that's not true.

His thoughts are interrupted by Harry's voice, dragging him back to reality. “Now it's my turn,” he says, sitting up a little straighter.

“What I love about Louis, is that he tries to act all tough, even though he's tiny and he's the sweetest person I've ever known. Back in the day, I used to love how obnoxiously loud he was.”

They all laugh at the memory of Louis running around the house they used to live in while they were on the X Factor, screaming and singing. Scaring and pranking them.

“I appreciate that he's not afraid to be serious when he has to be – usually. But what I fell in love with back then, was the promise of who he would be some day.”

“Sorry I've let you down,” Louis jokes, not knowing how to handle himself.

“You haven't. Not once.” As sarcastic as Louis just sounded, as serious Harry sounds now. “Everyone has their lesser moments, so do you, but there hasn't been a day when I wasn't proud of you – even if it was just for a second.”

Green eyes locked with blue, Harry whispers, “I love you, Lou. With all my heart.”

Louis swallows the lump forming in his throat before he chuckles and says, “Save something for the wedding.”

“Wait, what wedding?” Niall shifts to the edge of his seat, his gaze flickering between Louis and Harry.

“We're getting married again!”

Not even trying to hide his smile, Louis looks down at James, whose jaw has dropped and whose eyes are wide.

“He proposed!” Harry says happily, holding his hand up in the air, showing the exact same ring he's worn for five years now.

Louis laughs. “Not really, babe, but if that's your story.”

“I bet it was your own idea, Haz,” Niall says teasing, but he's smiling from cheek to cheek. Congrats, lads!”

Pouting, Harry looks at Louis. “I just want to marry you again.”

Louis removes his arm from James' shoulders, and hugs Harry tightly. “And you will, Curly. It will be a beautiful day– night.”

“Can I be in the wedding?” James chirps as he gets up from Louis' lap and starts jumping up and down on the couch.

Louis grabs one of his legs and tells him to sit down by patting on the couch beneath him.

“Of course you can.”

When he's taken both James' black Vans shoes off, and the boy starts to jump again, Louis turns back to Harry and presses a kiss on his lips. Harry opens his mouth to smile, and Louis uses the opportunity to let his tongue slip in. They kiss for a while under the disapproving sounds of their mates and 'ew's' from James, and eventually they stop to laugh. Louis quickly kisses the tip of Harry's nose before he leans back in the couch.

“Of course we'd like all of you to be there – with your girlfriends and wives and children and what not,” he says.

Niall leans back and throws his hands in the air as if saying 'not me', and Zayn just nods.

“I'll see if Sophia wants to come, and if not, I'll just bring Melissa,” Liam says, barely showing emotion.

Harry frowns with questioning eyes. “She's more than welcome, don't get me wrong, but weren't you getting a divorce?”

“I haven't had a chance to tell you yet, but I'm flying back to England tomorrow to see if we can work things out. She seems to want to.”

'Do you want to?' Harry asks.

“Sure I do.” Liam nods and smiles. “She's the one who wanted to get a divorce, I never really planned on giving up on our family. I think this trip came at the right time – you never know what you have until it's gone.”

“Well, I knew perfectly well what I had and I hated every minute that I didn't have it,” Louis says, referring to Harry. He's not saying it to direct the conversation back to them, he's actually saying it as a joke. Fortunately, they've known him long enough to know that, and they just laugh.

“I hope it works out, mate,” Zayn says rubbing his eyes tiredly. “I'm actually feeling a bit better about Perrie, too. I think it was just wrong for me to sit at home without her, gave me too much time to think and miss the time when we still used to be a band. Being here and hearing about your problems, I've realized things aren't so bad for me.”

“Good.” Louis smiles affectionately and directs his gaze from Zayn to Niall. “Well, we're all looking at you now, Ni. Need a little matchmaking?”

Niall laughs as he presses himself up off the couch. “Oh, shut up. It'll happen when the time's right.”

He smiles, but his eyes are a little sad, and Louis regrets making a joke of it. He should know better than that. Niall clears his throat and smiles a little wider before he turns around to make his way to the kitchen.

“So, who wants dinner?”

 

**· · · · · · · ·**

 

It's a little past eleven by the time that Louis and Harry

decide to take off. The paparazzi outside have given up, packed their bags and left, and James has been asleep for hours. Louis carries him downstairs, wrapped up in his blanket, his head resting against his daddy's shoulder; warm and safe. After he puts him in the car seat, Louis goes back inside to get Harry. He holds his step when he walks past Niall and grabs his arm.

“You know it was just a joke earlier, right?” he says. “I didn't mean anything by it, you know me.”

Niall nods and shrugs to shake Louis' hand off of him. “I know, it doesn't matter. But that doesn't take away the fact that I am alone.”

A little startled by Niall's movement, Louis cautiously moves to embrace him, and he is taken by surprise when he lets him. “I know.” He sighs and rubs Niall's back. “But what you said is true – it will happen when the time is right. You'll meet someone and have all the things you've ever wanted.”

After Louis lets him go, Niall says, “Maybe, but I can't stop wondering what will happen if I don't.”

“Then we'll move to some weird country that allows a three-person-marriage and we'll marry you.” They both laugh and shake their heads at the idea. “I just refuse to believe that there isn't someone out there who can love you as much as I love Harry.”

“And as much as Harry loves you,” Harry says suddenly, hugging Louis from behind with the blanket hanging from his shoulders. The cold and shock from this afternoon haven't quite left his body yet. “What are you two talking about?”

Louis sees the same sad look in Niall's eyes as he did that afternoon – the one he has when his smile doesn't reach his eyes – and he looks at him with compassion, before he turns around to face Harry. “I was just saying that I'm going to put James to bed when we get home and then I'm going to give you a bath before I put you to bed to... sleep, as well.”

Harry grins at him, dimples deep and eyes twinkling. “No, you weren't, but I like that plan.” He gives Louis a quick kiss before he lets his hands slide down his sides. “I'm just going to wish Liam a safe flight home and then I'm good to go.”

Wondering once more how he survived the past months without Harry, Louis smiles fondly as he watches him walk away. To Louis it's like everything he does is beautiful, even the clumsy way in which Harry places his feet as they hit the floor.

“You're so in love, it's almost disgusting,” Niall says, his Irish accent clear through his laughter. “Well, go home and enjoy it, mate. I'll be fine.”

Louis nods and rubs Niall's shoulder again. “I know you will. But if you're ever not, you know where to find me.”

They hug shortly before Louis turns to find Liam. Harry is just on his way out, and when they pass, he slaps Louis' butt playfully. Louis looks back at him and grins, almost running into Liam.

“Oops, sorry, mate.”

They shake hands and stare at each other, exchanging looks that share a thousand thoughts.

“I hope you make it home safe, and I wish you all the best with Sophia.” Louis steps forward to wrap an arm around the taller man's shoulders. “We'll give you a call when we've set a date for the wedding, and knowing Harry we'll do so before you even get home, so ask Sophia when you do.”

Liam laughs loudly while he hugs Louis. “Will do, man. Will do.” After they let each other go, he says, 'I know I won't be gone for long, and we argued just this afternoon, but I've got a feeling I'm going to miss you.”

“Oh, don't get all sentimental on me now, mate. You know I'm not good with that stuff.” He really isn't, Louis. He looks down at his shoes, kicking his feet at the carpet.

Liam sighs sarcastically. “And you're supposed to be the oldest one.”

“Oldest, not wisest,” Louis corrects him, and he laughs. “Well, bye for now. And good night, Zayn.”

“Bye,” they say in unison.

On his way out, he hugs Niall one more time and sighs. “We've got to stop with all the hugs, man. It's turning into an orgy over here.”

Niall giggles his loud, infectious giggle. “Well, you've always said my house would be the perfect set for a bad porno.”

“It would be!” Louis shouts as he runs over to the car and climbs in the driver's seat. He leans so the side to give Harry a quick kiss and asks, “Are you ready?”

It suddenly hits him that this will be the firs time since the accident that they'll be at their house with the three of them, and for some reason he's nervous. It feels like a new start, even though it already began yesterday.

“Where are we going?” James asks from the backseat, his voice so sleepy that Louis isn't sure he's even awake. He squeezes Harry's hand that's resting on his thigh, and they smile at each other.

“Home.”


	14. Fourteen

 

Fourteen

**· · · · ֍ · · · ·**

 

When James is peacefully sleeping in his bed, Louis shuts the door quietly. He tiptoes to his and Harry's bedroom, expecting to see him there, but it's empty.

“Harry?” His voice is barely louder than a whisper, so of course Harry's not going to hear it, wherever he is.

Louis walks out of the room and to the top of the stairs, but it's dark downstairs, so it's unlikely that he's there. Thinking that he'll show up eventually, Louis starts to make his way back to the bedroom, already taking off his shirt. He's nearly there when he suddenly hears the sound of running water. Turning around in the direction the sound came from, he sees a very dim stripe of light under the bathroom door. He crosses the hallway and opens the door, to find Harry sitting in the bathtub, the room only lit by candles. When Harry sees Louis standing in the doorway, he quickly hides a rubber ducky under the bubbles and Louis giggles.

“What are you doing?”

“I was waiting for you.” Harry smiles widely when he looks up. His hair is tied back into a bun, making every line of his face visible. Louis feels something move inside him, and he's suddenly very aware of his bare torso.

“You want me to join you?” Louis didn't know his throat was dry until he spoke.

Harry nods slowly, grinning with the same sparkle in his eyes that he had this afternoon. “I want to bathe you.”

Louis' breath hitches and he swallows, trying to get control of himself. He's supposed to be a grown man, and Harry is his own husband, for Christ's sake. He shouldn't be this excited to see him sitting in a bathtub – their bathtub.

“I thought the plan was that I was going to bathe you.”

“And then put me to bed, I know.” Harry shrugs with that grin still on his face. He knows that he's in control and that Louis' not used to it, and he loves it. “But I thought I'd change it. I see you've already removed your shirt. Could you remove the rest too, please?” His eyes go a bit darker as his grin turns into a soft smile, the corners of his mouth curling up.

After clearing his throat, Louis says, “Can't you do it for me?”

Harry pulls his hands out of the water and seductively plays with his fingers. “Sorry, my fingers are wet.”

Louis laughs – at himself, for being so goddamn nervous, and at Harry for being so smug right now. He shakes his head before he takes off his shoes, socks, jeans and boxers. He knows that he's hard, especially since Harry's eyes are no longer fixed on his face or torso, but he tries to ignore it. He climbs into the bathtub facing Harry and tries to kiss him, but Harry puts his hands on his shoulders and tells him to turn around. Louis does as Harry says and sits down between Harry's legs. He feels that Harry's hard against his lower back, and that makes it so much harder to breathe. He doesn't know how long Harry is going to keep up this game – he's tried to before, and he usually gives in before Louis does, but what if this time he doesn't?

Harry shifts behind Louis so that he is right at the top of the parting of his bum. Louis feels him pressing up against him, and he hopes that he stays there, but Harry pulls Louis closer and slides just between his cheeks.

“Shit,” Louis whispers, half moaning.

Harry laughs softly as he massages Louis' shoulders, trying to make him relax. It works, and Louis closes his eyes as he leans against his chest, letting his head fall back on Harry's shoulder. Harry slowly moves a washing cloth up and down Louis' arms while he softly kisses his neck, and Louis' hand is on Harry's thigh, his nails surely deep inside Harry's skin, but he doesn't care. He needs to find grip somehow – if not on the situation, then on Harry.

Now moving the washing cloth over Louis' chest, Harry uses his free hand to brush Louis' hair back with his fingers, and he softly pulls on it.

“Haz,” Louis moans, and before he can say anything more, Harry whispers in his ear, “No matter what you're going to ask, the answer is no.”

Louis groans, but decides to let Harry do to him what he wants and just enjoy it. One thing is for sure, and that is that Harry isn't good enough at this kind of game to tease him like this without fucking him eventually. See, Louis managed it once. It was years before they had kids and they still lived in London. Louis walked around naked all night, and sat beside Harry while he was watching TV. He stroked him everywhere, kissed his neck and face, but not his lips. At some point he yawned, got up from the couch, said goodnight and went to bed. Harry followed him, begging him to fuck him, or at least let him touch him, anything. After what seemed like an eternity, they fell asleep.

Louis did him good the next morning.

But Harry doesn't have the willpower to do that, so Louis isn't too worried. He's just frustrated. Harry is now moving the cloth up and down his thighs, casually touching his balls in the process, and Louis does his best to think of anything else than where Harry's hands are right now. _What should we have for dinner tomorrow? Should I buy a new suit for the wedding? I should call my mum soon._

None of it is enough to distract him, and his focus is back on Harry pressing up against him from behind. Shit. _Am I going to do this_ , he thinks to himself. _Am I really going to beg the dork that I call Harold to fuck me?_ He waits for what is probably no more than thirty seconds, but what feels like an eternity before he turns around so fast that Harry can't stop him. When Louis moves his legs to sit on top of Harry, the rubber ducky gets stuck between his knee and the bathtub, and Louis throws it out.

“Hey,” Harry says offended, forgetting for a moment that he's supposed to play tough right now.

Louis grins as he moves his hips on Harry's. “Not so smug now, are we?”

Harry goes back to being serious, and he crosses his arms over his chest trying not to look impressed by Louis' movement, but feeling how hard he is, Louis knows better.

“Please touch me,” Louis says, trying not to sound too desperate, but Harry simply shakes his head. “Please, Haz.” Louis leans forward, pressing Harry's head back with one hand, giving his lips access to his neck. When Harry fails to suppress a moan, Louis smiles against his neck, satisfied by the result of his actions. “You know you want to fuck me, too.”

“Do not,” Harry says, his voice slow and deep.

“No?” Louis presses himself up a bit and takes Harry in his hand to move his top against the soft place right below his balls. “Are you sure?”

Harry's body shocks as his breath hitches. “Fuck, Lou. I was supposed to be in control this time.”

 _So this is the part where he gives up_ , Louis thinks to himself.

Harry wraps his arms around Louis' neck and presses his nails into his shoulders, scratching them softly. He sounds impatient when he says, “Fine, do it, then.”

Louis puts his hands on the sides of the tub to press himself up. “Wait, I need some...”

“It's under the towels.”

See, Harry was never going to go through with this. Louis shakes his head grinning as he throws aside the towels on the table next to the bathtub, and he finds the bottle of lube. He puts some of it on his hand and uses his finger to put it on and in himself. He then squirts some on Harry and spreads it by slowly moving his hand up and down.

“Okay, enough,” Harry says under his breath.

Louis repositions himself and slowly lowers on Harry, moaning as he fills him up. He moves slowly – not because it hurts, even though it's been a while, but to tease Harry. It seems to work, because Harry puts his hands on Louis' hips and helps him to move faster.

Putting his hands on either sides of Harry's face, Louis breathes, “God, Harry, I love you.”

“I don't care, just fuck me,” Harry groans.

Louis stops to move and looks at Harry. “You don't care that I love you?” he says sheepishly.

“God, Lou, of course I do, but now is not the time.”

Louis sits down on Harry's lap with him still inside him, and crosses his arms over his chest. “Says the man who once broke down crying and scratched my back open trying to express his love for me.”

Harry sighs as he squeezes Louis' butt cheeks. “Babe, I love you to the moon and back, but I was about to come.”

“Oh, was that it?” Louis softly presses his lips on Harry's as he starts to move again, up and down, round and round. They moan and moan as they kiss aggressively – tongues wrestling and teeth bumping.

Covering Louis' mouth with his hand, Harry groans, “James is next door.”

Louis bites Harry's hand trying not to scream as he comes in the water, followed by Harry whose mouth is pressed against Louis' shoulder to muffle the sound. They both exhale loudly as Harry leans back in the bathtub and Louis rests against Harry's chest.

James' voice suddenly breaks the silence as he calls for one of his fathers from his room, and Harry groans softly. “Should I go?”

Louis nods against Harry's chest before he sits up straight. “Go see what's wrong.” He looks over the side of the bathtub to see that there's multiple puddles of water on the floor, and sighs. “I'll clean that up and wait for you in bed.”

They kiss passionately one more time, not quite ready to let each other go, before they climb out of the tub.

 

“Are you asleep yet?”

Louis grins and switches to his side. He holds the duvet up to welcome Harry. “How could I possibly fall asleep without you after that?”

Harry climbs in the bed and cuddles up to Louis, resting his head on Louis' arm so that he can see his face.

“Was it hard to sleep without me? You know, when I was...”

Louis feels a tension flow into his body that he doesn't want to feel right now. “You can't imagine.” He swallows, shaking his head slightly. “But I'd rather not talk about that. You're here now.”

Their hands find each other, and their fingers tangle up like branches on a tree. Harry brings Louis' hand up to his lips and kisses the back of it.

“What did James want?” Louis asks, suppressing a yawn.

“Hm, nothing really. He was just confused because the last time he was awake we were at Niall's.”

“Is he asleep now?”

“Yes. I gave him his monkey, and that was enough. I stayed with him for a while to make sure he wouldn't wake up again, but I couldn't get back to you soon enough.”

Louis laughs fondly. “Don't you know that your children should always come first?”

Harry shifts closer to Louis, burying his nose in the space between his collar bones. “Sometimes I just can't be away from you, it's always been that way.”

Louis frees Harry's hair from the band keeping it together and moves his fingers through it, scratching his skull softly as he does so. He presses his nose in the mass of hair to take in his scent – the scent that he calls home. Harry is his home. That's why he didn't mind moving to Los Angeles when Harry asked him to; he knew he would be fine anywhere in the world as long as he had Harry.

“I want to have another baby,” Harry whispers.

“I was waiting for you to bring that up.”

Harry pushes himself up on his elbows to look at his husband, green locking with blue for the millionth time but never enough. “I want to have your baby.”

Louis laughs another fond laugh, the kind he seems to do a lot around Harry. “Maybe they didn't tell you in biology, but men can't get pregnant, babe.”

“I know that.” Harry playfully slaps Louis' shoulder. “But you know what I mean. James and William were mine – biologically. I want our next child to be yours. I want her or him to have your eyes, and your hair.”

Louis brushes some stray strands of hair out of Harry's face and holds them at the sides of it. “You want it to be a girl, don't you?”

Harry smiles and it's almost a shy smile. “Either way would be fine, of course, but after two boys I would love to have a girl, yes.”

Suddenly feeling overwhelmed, Louis sighs and strokes Harry's cheekbones with his thumbs. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”

Pretending to think hard, Harry says, “I think so, but I don't mind you telling me again.”

“I love you way more than you can imagine, I really do.” Louis wraps his arms around Harry's neck and pulls him on top of him, holding him close. “Let's just get some sleep, it's been a long day.”

Harry kisses Louis tenderly before rolling off of him. Pushing Louis a bit to let him lay on his side, Harry spoons him, and his voice is deep with sleep when he says, “Sleep tight, sweetheart. I love you too.”

With a smile on his face and Harry's arms wrapped around him tightly, Louis falls asleep. He dreams of Harry and their life together – the life they've lived, and the life they will live. For him, they can't be together long enough, and in his dreams they are forever and ever.

 

**· · · · · · · ·**

 

When Louis wakes up the next morning, he moves his hands under the duvet, searching. Because his hands find nothing but covers, he opens his eyes and looks to Harry's side. It's messy, but no longer warm. Sighing and yawning at the same time, he climbs out of the bed and looks at the clock on his phone. It's only eight in the morning. Wondering what Harry could be doing up so early, he puts on some sweatpants and a t-shirt, and leaves the room. When he stops at James' bedroom door to hear if there's any noises, there's nothing but silence.

He makes his way down the stairs and through the living room to the kitchen, to find Harry there. He's wearing the same type of outfit as Louis, with his hair is back up in a bun again. Louis frowns when he sees him put a plate in the dishwasher, along with a mug that he probably used for his morning tea.

“Good morning, love.” He tries to sound normal, instead of sleepy and worried, he really does, but he's not sure the words come out as natural as he means them to.

Harry doesn't turn to face him when he answers, but instead focuses on the knife he's putting in the dishwasher. “Morning.”

“Did you sleep alright?” After Louis crosses the kitchen to where Harry is standing, he puts his hands on his hips. “You're up quite early.”

“Slept fine.” Moving his hips a bit to get rid of Louis' touch, Harry tries to walk away, but Louis grabs his wrist softly, trying not to hurt him.

“Haz, is something wrong?” Louis asks, his voice now worried but still calm. “After last night I thought we'd have break–”

Harry turns around to face Louis now and says, “Nothing's wrong, I'm fine,” but his expression shows that he's not fine, and Louis wonders if he's even slept at all or that he's been up all night.

Smiling faintly as he lets his thumb stroke Harry's arm, the little hairs there standing up at his touch, he says, “You don't seem fine to me.”

With a sigh, Harry looks at Louis' hand on his arm, and then back up again, his eyes cold. “Well, I am. Could you let me go now, please?”

“If you tell me what's going on.” All the while Louis tries to keep his voice steady as he goes over everything that's happened in the past twelve hours in his mind. “Was it something I said?”

Harry pulls his arm back a bit, but not hard enough for it to be freed of Louis' grip, and he sighs again. “It has nothing to do with anything you've said or done.”

“Then just tell me.” Louis' voice is sweet, and he steps forward to reach for Harry's other arm as well, but Harry now pulls both away and leaves the kitchen.

“Louis, I'd appreciate it if you'd just leave me alone.”

Confused about what's going on, Louis just watches him from a distance as he reaches into the broom closet and pulls out the vacuum cleaner. Harry calling him Louis is a rarity. In fact, Louis thinks now that it only ever happens when he's being sarcastic or angry. He puts his weight on the tip of his toes to see what Harry's doing and says, “What are you going to do with that, babe? You know you're not supposed to –“

Not looking back at Louis, but pulling the cleaner in the direction of the stairs, Harry interrupts him. “I'm going to clean William's room.” He pulls a little harder when the vacuum's cord is stuck behind the door. “You've done a shit job at it.”

Louis decides to ignore Harry's remark, figures that telling him that it was his mother's job isn't the best thing to do right now. He inhales deeply, trying not to turn this into an argument. After he walks over to Harry, he grabs the vacuum cleaner and offers to carry it upstairs for him, because it's too heavy.

Harry pulls it back and carries it in both arms. “Goddammit, Louis, just let me do this!”

Resting his hand in his hair, Louis keeps an eye on Harry making his way up the stairs. With every part of his being he hopes that he makes it alright, but he can already see his knees are starting to buckle. He reaches out a hand, but pulls it back in, afraid he'll startle Harry if he touches him or speaks.

Harry's made it halfway up when he loses his balance, drops the machine, and falls down the stairs.

“Haz.” Louis takes a few steps forward and squats down next to his husband to help him up.

“I can do this,” Harry says through his teeth as he tries to push himself up. He hisses as he rubs his hip, clearly in pain.

Louis watches him struggle for a bit, but decides it's enough when he sees a tear form in the corner of Harry's eye. He moves a little closer to him and sits down, wrapping his arms around him. Harry tries to push him away at first, but eventually gives in and rests his head against Louis' shoulder. Softly pushing away Harry's hand, Louis' takes its place on Harry's hip and rubs it softly.

“Does it hurt?” he whispers.

Harry nods, the little hairs sticking out of his bun tickling Louis' neck. Shifting back a bit to sit against the wall, Louis pulls Harry on his lap, just like he did in the hospital and in William's bedroom, and cradles him gently.

“What was that about, babe?” Louis asks after soothing him for a moment, and he presses his lips against Harry's temple and keeps them there.

“I just...”

Louis waits a couple of seconds for Harry to finish his sentence, and when he doesn't, he says in a calm voice, “Last night was so lovely, though.” He kisses the side of his head again. “Did you sleep at all?”

Harry shakes his head, but he's silent for a while longer before he says, “It was lovely, that wasn't the problem.”

“Then what was?”

“It was...” He sighs loudly. “Bathing you was lovely. And then I stayed awake to watch you sleep, which was lovely too.”

Because Harry stops talking again, Louis kisses his cheekbone a couple of times and whispers, “Then what happened?”

“I couldn't sleep, because I- I was too... excited, I guess. Too full of feelings. So I went for a wee and I tried to fall asleep again, but when I couldn't I went to James' room, and I sat at his bedside for a while.” He sniffs when he smiles. “He's so cute when he's asleep, that boy. Kind of like you. But anyways, for some reason, maybe out of habit, I went to William's room as well.” When he sniffs this time, it doesn't sound like he's smiling, but the opposite. “I don't know why, but I kind of expected him to be in his crib, but of course he wasn't. Then I sat at his bedside for God knows how long, just holding his stuffed elephant. I think I cried, but I'm not even sure.”

Trying to stop his body from shaking, Louis inhales deeply. This is exactly what he was afraid of, what he told Niall at the hospital – that Harry would break down when he realized William's really gone. He's tried to count the hours he used to sit by his crib too, but he couldn't. When he's sitting there, overwhelmed by emotions, time seems to move ten times as fast and to stand still at the same time. Nothing seems real there.

“Then I went downstairs,” Harry continues. “Made myself a cup of tea and looked at hundreds of photographs. Every one from the day we moved here to the last visit to the zoo.” He shifts a bit on Louis' lap as he fidgets with Louis' shirt. “Do you remember that picture of you and the boys playing in the bathtub?” Of course Louis remembers. He's spend his nights the way Harry did last night countless of times. He simply nods and Harry smiles sadly. “I remember being so happy that day. We played the day away on the beach – building sand castles, teaching the kids how to swim... And after you took a bath with them to rinse off the sand, I put them to bed and by the time I got to our bedroom you were already asleep. You were just as exhausted as they were.”

Louis laughs quietly at the memory. Oh, what he'd give to go back and make sure nothing bad would ever happen to them. “Why didn't you wake me?” His voice sounds a little defeated, disappointed, and he hopes that Harry doesn't hear it, because this isn't about him.

“Because I didn't want to bother you. It took a lot from you to work through this, too. I don't want you to have to relive it for me.”

So it is about him. Louis takes Harry's head in both his hands and he turns it around a bit so that they can look each other in the eye. “Baby, I'll relive it a thousand times if it means that eventually you feel even just a little better.” He presses his lips against Harry's shortly, making sure he knows that he means it. “I know you've always considered my feelings over your own, but you don't have to this time. I'm not asking you to. In fact, I'm asking you to do the exact opposite.”

Harry stares at Louis as his eyes start to fill with tears again. Eventually he blinks and one escapes, rolling down his cheek. “I'm just so tired of being sad. And not being able to do anything.”

“Well, you did something last night,” Louis says as he buries his face in the space where Harry's shoulder and neck meet.

Giggling quietly, Harry leans his head against Louis'. “You know what I mean, Lou.”

“I do. And I understand that it's frustrating, but the doctors told you that it would take some time to get all your strength back. No one expects you to be up and running already, certainly not me.”

“Why are you always so understanding?” Harry whispers as he lets his head hang down.

“Because I only want what's best for you. And that is to take it easy, and to let me take care of you, and definitely not to carry a vacuum cleaner up the stairs.”

Harry laughs softly. “I guess that was pretty stupid.”

“It was,” Louis agrees with a soft smile. “Why did you want to clean his room?”

Harry shrugs. “To make it feel like there's still life there.”

Louis just nods and rests his head against Harry's. They sit there for what feels like forever, and Louis' bum is hurting from sitting on the hard floor with Harry on top of him, but he doesn't care. They talk – well, mostly Louis – about nothing, really. Louis tries to bring up the wedding, but Harry doesn't seem to be interested right now. It's not that he's annoyed or anything, there's just no strength left in him to think or talk. Eventually, in the middle of Louis' story about James' birthday, Harry falls asleep in Louis' arm. Accepting the fact that he could be sitting there for a long, long time, Louis rests his head against the wall and closes his eyes.

Just when he's starting to doze off, the doorbell rings. He looks down at Harry, but there's no movement – just calm, deep breathing. Not sure what to do, he carefully tries to move Harry from his lap to the floor. He doesn't mean to wake him, but Harry yawns and rubs his eyes with his fists. He shifts to the floor and sits against the wall, allowing Louis to stand up.

A little stiff, Louis does so and walks to the door. When he opens it, he sees his mother-in-law. She seems to be very excited and happy about something, and Louis assumes that Harry told her about the wedding. Harry is the type of person that would text message or call his mother right after a proposal while the other person is in the bathroom. In fact, that's exactly what he did after the first one.

“Morning, Anne.”

“Good morning, love.” She sounds just as happy as she looks when she steps in without Louis asking her to. As she walks past Louis to enter the living room, she sees Harry sitting on the floor. A little unsure of the situation, she glances over at the vacuum cleaner that's lying on its side, just a meter away from where Harry is sitting.

“Sweetheart, what happened, are you okay?” She squats down next to him and caresses his hair.

Harry pushes himself up a bit and his voice is deep with sleep when he speaks. “I'm fine, Mum. I just fell down the stairs, that's all.”

Anne turns around to look at Louis, her eyebrows raised and eyes questioning.

“Hey, don't look at me,” Louis says, his eyebrows raised as well and his arms crossed over his chest. “Your son can be very stubborn.”

Shaking her head, Anne turns back to Harry. “You know you're supposed to keep calm, baby. Listen to your doctors.”

“Louis already gave me the lecture, Mum. No need to do it again.” Harry rubs his eyes again.

Leaning forward, Louis lifts Harry's chin up with his index finger. “You're tired, aren't you?”

“Exhausted.”

Facing Anne now, Louis says, “I'm sorry, Anne. You just got here, but I think it's best if I take him to bed.”

“I can do it myself.” Harry now looks a bit annoyed again as he tries to stand up, but he flinches at the pain in his hip as he shifts his weight to his other side.

Smiling at Harry's determination, Louis takes hold of his arm to help him up and says, “Even if you could, I want to do it. Come on.”

Harry says his goodbyes to his mother as he stumbles up the stairs, leaning on Louis and trying not to put too much weight on the side where he's hurting.

“Just make yourself a cup of coffee,” Louis says over his shoulder. “Make yourself at home.”

 

Louis pulls the duvet up to right under Harry's chin while he sits down on the side of the bed. He watches him get comfortable and smiles to himself. Harry looks little and warm and cuddly wrapped up like that, and Louis wishes he could snuggle up to him, but he can't. He hears noises coming from James' room, and his mother-in-law is waiting for him downstairs. This is no time to cuddle.

“Do you have to go?” Harry asks in a whiny voice while he frees his hair from his bun and spreads it out over his pillow.

 _Great_ , Louis thinks to himself. _Make it even worse_. “I really don't want to, but I have to.” He realizes how sad he sounds and he laughs softly thinking how juvenile they still are around each other, like boys who haven't been together for much longer than a few months. It's moments like these when he doesn't feel like they've been together for fourteen years. He's seen him fall asleep thousands of times, and it still gives him butterflies.

“What?” Harry frowns and Louis shakes his head.

“Nothing. Just thinking how cute you are like this.”

Rolling on his side, closer to Louis, Harry says, “You always think I'm cute.”

“That's true, but like this, you're extra cute.” Leaning forward, Louis covers Harry with his upper body, holding him close. He kisses the side of his head and sighs. “I should get dressed and go downstairs. You should get some sleep, anyway.”

Moaning, Harry rubs Louis' knee and says, “Yeah, I guess.”

Sitting up straight again, Louis brushes Harry's curls with his fingers. “If you need anything, don't hesitate to call me, okay? I don't care if you need a drink, something to eat, a shoulder to cry on, someone to yell at – I'm here.”

He means it. He'd rather have Harry yell and scream at him, even punch him until he feels better, than have him act like he did this morning. If there's one thing that Louis can't stand, it's being on the receiving end of Harry's cold shoulder. Getting the cold shoulder from anyone sucks, but from Harry it's unbearable. He remembers one time when they were on tour, Harry basically ignored him for an entire day, even when they were on stage, and Louis went crazy. He went over everything he'd said and done looking for something that Harry could be mad about, but he found nothing. Eventually he broke down and asked him while they were backstage to change their clothes, and it turned out that Harry had just been worried about his voice. He'd had a cold for days, and it was taking its toll on his voice. Ever since, whenever Harry acts like that, Louis tries to remember that it might not even be because of him, but he still worries.

“I don't want to yell at you, Lou,” Harry says with a soft smile on his face.

“Not the point. The point is that I'm here if you need anything.”

“Okay.”

Harry pulls the duvet up a little higher and closes his eyes, but Louis sees that he's peeking. Suppressing a laugh, he takes his clothes off while he makes his way over to the closet. Knowing that Harry is watching, he drops his boxer shorts slowly and bends over a little deeper than necessary to pick them up off the ground.

“Not fair,” Harry says suddenly, his voice filled with sleep.

Letting out a laugh, Louis claps his hands. He walks back to the bed and presses one last kiss on Harry's forehead.

“Gives you something to dream about.”

 

Apparently Anne has taken Louis' advice, because he finds her sitting on the couch, reading today's newspaper and drinking a cup of coffee. She talks to James for a while, who climbs on her lap the minute he comes downstairs. Louis' glad, because it gives him a chance to make breakfast without James running around him and chatting his ears off. Because of Harry's little accident, it's now eleven o'clock and Louis and James still haven't eaten. Luckily, James likes his sleep and he barely even noticed that Louis took him downstairs later than usual.

They eat their pancakes at the dining room table – James' covered in maple syrup, and Louis' less stuffed with berries. So far they've only made small talk, but Louis knows that he's going to have to have a real conversation with Anne. In a way he's dreading it. She has every right to be worried about her son after what she walked in on that morning, but it hasn't been very long since her and Louis buried the hatchet, and Louis' afraid she might want to dig it back up again. He doesn't feel like explaining why it's not his fault, defending himself. _But maybe he's overthinking it and it won't be so bad_ , he thinks to himself.

Not long after Louis and James finish their pancakes, Anne asks Louis if they can talk – alone. He nods quietly as he puts the plates in the dishwasher and sends James to his room, adding that Daddy is asleep and not up to play right now. He doesn't really get it and asks if he can't play with Batman instead, apparently having forgotten that Zayn is not staying with them any longer.

With two fresh cups of coffee, Anne and Louis sit down on the couch in the living room, Louis' leg folded beneath him.

“So,” Louis starts awkwardly. “You got here quite early.” He's trying to postpone the actual conversation they're supposed to be having, but knowing Anne, it won't work for too long.

Anne nods and smiles. “I wanted to congratulate the two of you in person – the wedding and all.” After Louis thanks her she says, “That's not what I want to talk to you about right now, though.”

_Here we go._

“Or actually, it is. Do you think this is the right time to have a wedding, Louis?”

Nervous, Louis shifts a bit in his seat, hoping this isn't going to turn into a lecture. Even a discussion would be better than a lecture. “Why wouldn't it be, if I may ask?” he decides to ask, as if her reasons aren't obvious.

“Well.” She pauses to think, folding her hands in her lap. “What was that scene this morning about? Is Harry doing okay?”

Louis shrugs. “Under the circumstances, yes. He's just had a bad night, thinking about William and everything. Nothing that wasn't to be expected.”

Anne nods slowly, looking to the side. “How did him having a bad night result in him falling down the stairs, though?”

“I'm sorry, Anne,” Louis says, pushing himself up a bit to pull his leg out from under him. “But is this some kind of interrogation?”

She raises her eyebrows at his boldness. “I'm sorry if it feels like one to you, but I'm worried about my son, like any parent would be.”

“Well.” Louis lets a sigh escape his mouth. “Harry wanted to clean William's room, so he tried to carry the vacuum cleaner up the stairs, which he is obviously too weak for, so he lost his balance and fell.” He keeps his face straight, a bit annoyed.

“And you didn't try to stop him?”

Louis huffs. “Is that how little you think of me? Didn't you leave this image of me being an irresponsible husband and father behind after our last argument?”

“Louis, I'm not accusing you of anything.” She now shifts in her seat too, clearly just as uncomfortable as Louis. “I'm just trying to understand what happened.”

“What happened is that I tried to stop him, but that he pushed me away and told me to let him do it.” Louis realizes that he comes across more hostile than he means to, and he tries to sound a little calmer now. “I thought it would be better to show him that he couldn't do it than to tell him, since he wouldn't listen.”

Anne nods again, but she still doesn't fully understand. “Maybe if you'd just –”

“Again, I'm sorry, Anne, but you're not with him every day.” Louis rubs his hand down his face. “If he's having one of those moods, it's best to just let him go. Let him process things on his own terms. I didn't mean for him to fall down the stairs, either.”

Apparently Anne decides to let it rest, because her voice is softer now as she asks, “Is he asleep now?”

Louis nods, smiling faintly at the thought of Harry sleeping, curled up and making soft noises. “I checked on him before I took James downstairs.”

“Okay,” Anne says, now smiling too. “Does he have those moods often – is he sad a lot?”

“I expected it to be worse, to be honest. He's really doing great. He's still struggling, though. Tired of being sad and not being able to do anything, as he says.” Louis shrugs. “I just try to be supportive and remind him that it takes time.”

“I'm glad you're still around, Louis. I have to admit that I had my doubts–”

Louis shakes his head as he speaks, his voice filled with disbelieve. “You thought I'd leave him.”

Sighing, Anne looks at her hands in her lap and then back up at Louis. “It's just that –“

“I can't believe you.”Louis huffs sarcastically, as if this is all a sick joke. “What was that bullshit on the beach about then, huh? We have been together for _fourteen years_. We have stuck together through everything, and you think I'd leave him. Just like that.”

She holds up her hand to shut him up. “You're getting this all wrong, Louis. Stop twisting every word I say. No, we haven't always seen eye to eye, but that doesn't mean that I'm this mean mother-in-law that is set out to destroy your marriage, or whatever it is you think I'm trying to do here. I meant that I don't think everyone would be strong enough to stay with their partner through something like this. I'm saying that I'm proud of you and that Harry is lucky to have you.”

“You're proud of me?” Louis whispers, taken by surprise and confused.

Anne moves a little closer to him and takes both his hands in her own. “Very proud. Louis, when are you going to start being proud of yourself? I worry about you sometimes – not about how you treat Harry, because I know you'd do anything in your power and beyond for my boy, but how you treat yourself.”

Blue eyes wide, Louis looks up at her. He feels sorry for being so hostile, defensive, when she was trying to tell him that she's proud of him. She's right – he isn't proud of himself and he doesn't understand why he should be. Wasn't it wrong of him to stop visiting Harry in the hospital? To deny James of seeing his father when he wanted to so badly?

“You know how I felt about you not visiting Harry,” she continues, as if she can read Louis' thoughts. “But that's in the past, Louis. I've moved on from that, and so should you. It's about what you do now. You seem to be very unsure of doing things right, but believe me, you do.” She lets go of one of his hands to stroke the side of his face. “I'm sure Harry didn't tell you, but he called me up last night after you fell asleep. He called to tell me about the wedding, and to ask me how I was doing, but he spent fifty minutes talking about you – I checked.”

Louis' starting to tear up, suddenly overwhelmed with regret for falling out to her and love for Harry, fighting the urge to run upstairs and cuddle up to him and never let him go.

Smiling lovingly, Anne continues. “He described every feature of you, even though I know damn well what you look like. I let him, because it was too cute to stop. He also said that he doesn't understand how he can be this in love with someone he's known for so long. That he knows all your flaws and imperfections, but that they don't diminish his love for you one bit. Lastly he said that he can't wait to marry you again.” She's now starting to tear up as well, but her smile only grows wider. “So go do what you're dying to do and go upstairs. Be with him. Don't let your old mother-in-law stop you.”

Louis giggles. “You're not old,” is all he manages to say through his tears.

“Maybe not.” She laughs. “But go. I'll take James for the day.”

Not sure what to do, because all he wants to do is fly up the stairs, but also to somehow show his gratitude, Louis leans forward to hug her. Her hug feels like a real mother's hug. He doesn't know what makes it feel that way, but it does. There are a thousand things he wants to thank her for – for giving him Harry, for being a great grandmother for James, for finally understanding him, for being proud of him – but there's no way to say all that. Not with the lump in his throat making it so hard to speak, the adrenaline running through his veins making it hard to sit still. So instead he looks her in the eye with the most sincere look he can manage and says two simple words.

“Thank you.”


	15. Fifteen

 

Fifteen

**· · · · ֍ · · · ·**

 

It's six in the morning when his phone rings. At first, Louis refuses to answer it, but he's too curious to see who's calling when it doesn't stop ringing. His face lights up, a smile forming from cheek to cheek, when he sees Harry's name on the little screen. One eye open and the other one squeezed shut against his pillow, he slides his thumb over the glass.

“You're not getting cold feet, are you?”

“Not a chance in hell.” The voice on the other side of the line sounds just as sleepy as Louis'. “I miss you, Lou.”

Louis grins and covers his face with his hand, like he's embarrassed even though no one can see him. “I miss you too. Why did we think this was a good idea?”

Harry sighs. “I don't know about you, but I never did,

Gemma forced me.”

It's the morning of their wedding day, and Louis and Harry wanted it to be just like their first. Part of having a traditional wedding is sleeping apart the night before, and Louis has no idea why he agreed to it. It took him at least two hours to fall asleep, and during the night he woke up about four times, his hands searching the bed for warmth but finding nothing. Harry is staying over at Gemma's, and James is with Anne and Robin. The house feels empty without them, and Louis is glad Harry called him, because he didn't want to be the first one to do it.

Moaning, Louis suggests, “Can't you just come home?”

“No, Lou. She'd murder me. Besides, I'm not allowed to drive a car yet.”

“You've only been out of the hospital for two weeks and I'm already without you again.” Louis is sad, really really sad, aching for Harry. He saw him just last night and he'll see him again in mere hours, but it feels like they're spending a year apart.

“It's just so that I can promise you in a couple of hours that I'll stay with you forever.”

“You already promised me that five years ago.”

“I know.” Harry sighs through the phone and it's a sound that warms Louis' heart. “I can't wait to see you and James.”

“Me neither, love.”

They don't speak for a while after that, and Louis feels himself starting to doze off again. The sound of Harry's breathing calms him, and because he can hear Harry's breaths becoming less frequent, he guesses that he's falling asleep too. He just lays there, listening to Harry, trying to imagine that he's beside him, but it's not the same. He misses Harry's touch, his warmth. His warmth is what Louis really needs right now, because he's cold with nerves for the day ahead. Going over everything in his mind for the millionth time, he knows that everything's being taken care off, but he can't seem to relax. He won't be able to until him and Harry are standing in front of the officiant, holding each other's hand.

Their mothers and sisters have taken care of everything – Louis' mum arrived a week ago, and his siblings a few days later with their father. All Louis and Harry have had to do themselves, was buy a suit and pick out rings, only to decide that they'll keep the same rings they've worn for five years now. Buying new ones felt like erasing those years, like they never even happened at all. Worse than their love going to waste, would be pretending like William never happened, like he was never in their lives. That didn't seem fair, so they'll keep wearing these rings, and continue to carry the memories, even if that means carrying the bad ones as well.

Gemma told them to take off their rings five days ago, and they've been with her ever since, safely hidden. Louis' never felt more naked, more vulnerable. During the years they've been married, even if Harry wasn't with him, Louis had to only touch his ring and he was by his side again.

When he went shopping for a suit with his mum, Louis felt just like he did when he was twenty seven years old and getting married for the first time. He stood in front of the mirror, looking at himself wearing a brand new suit and the bare ring finger on his left hand. The white line surrounding the bottom of it was the only thing that reminded him of the past years, and it all felt quite surreal. He kept telling his mum how nervous he was, and she kept reminding him that he is marrying the man that he is already married to and that he knows better than the back of his own hand.

Sometimes Louis wonders if that is true – that he knows everything there is to know about Harry. Sure, there is not one part of his body that Louis hasn't explored, but his mind can still be hard to read from time to time. Actually, Louis knows that Harry's expressions are crystal clear, but sometimes he refuses to believe them. It's hard to realize that everything Harry does and feels is for Louis. He never pities himself, never feels bad for himself, even though Louis sometimes feels bad for him. Apparently they are the same in that way, and there was a time when Louis assumed that that was just how all married couples are, but now he's not so sure.

“Lou?” Harry's sleepy voice brings Louis back to the present, and he rubs his eyes with the back of his fist.

“Yes, Harold?” Louis looks up at the painting he gave Harry as a late birthday present hanging on the wall behind the bed as he waits for him to answer.

After hesitating for a few seconds, Harry asks, “Is there any way I can see you before tonight?” The way he asks it is careful, cautious, and Louis grins from cheek to cheek, reminded of why he loves this man so much.

“I'm afraid not, Haz. There's no way Gemma is letting you leave and Niall is coming over in a few hours, so I guess we're stuck.”

“In a few hours, huh?” Harry sounds cheeky and Louis immediately knows what he's getting at. He presses his face in his pillow, knowing that what he's about to say is bad.

“Well, Gemma's house isn't too far away, so I guess I could be back before Niall gets here...”

Laughing through the phone, Harry says, “I was hoping you'd say that.”

 

Louis leans against the side of his car and he feels like he's eighteen years old again, back when him and Harry had to meet when everyone else was asleep. He's cozy in his light gray sweatpants, dark blue hoodie and his black leather jacket, and he's waiting for Harry to come outside. The little spotlights in Gemma's overhang light the path to the door and Louis looks at it, starting to feel nervous and impatient. Again he wonders how Harry's coma could have been such a blessing for their relationship. It already felt nothing short of perfect to him, but Louis can't remember being this nervous every time he was about to see Harry before the accident. And it's a good nervous too, never bad. Nothing but butterflies.

He takes his phone out of his pocket to check the time – again – just as Harry comes walking through the door. Both their faces light up when their eyes lock, and they walk over to each other, meeting in the middle. Harry lets out a sigh of relief when Louis takes him in his arms.

“I didn't think it was possible to miss you this much.” His words are muffled by the fabric of Louis' sweater on his shoulder. “Promise me I'll never have to sleep without you again.”

Louis smiles as he moves his fingers through a handful of Harry's hair. “If you promise me back.”

“I promise,” Harry says and his teeth chatter as he gets even closer to Louis.

Figuring that he's cold because he's only wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt – not even socks or shoes – Louis asks him if he wants to sit in the back of the car. He's already put James' car seat in the trunk on top of Harry's wheelchair – which they really should return to the hospital, since he hasn't used it once.

“Better?”

They're lying on the backseat, which isn't extremely comfortable because it's too short, but it'll have to do for now.

“So much better,” Harry says as he brushes Louis' hair with his fingers.

Louis was just referring to the temperature, but by the sound of Harry's voice, he guesses he means that even lying on a crappy backseat together is better than sleeping in a comfortable bed alone. He can't blame him.

Louis presses his ear against Harry's chest. “My favorite sound,” he mutters.

“What's that?”

“Your heartbeat. Or as our beloved son would call it; the boom boom inside your chest.”

They both laugh as they cuddle into each other and Louis takes in Harry's scent. Without speaking, their hands move over their bodies – not in a sexual way, but more romantic. Just tender strokes. The orange light of the rising sun outside gently lights their faces, making everything look softer.

“I'm nervous,” Harry says quietly, like he's speaking to himself.

Louis moans softly as he shifts a bit against him. “I was just thinking how good it feels to lay here.”

“I'm certainly not nervous about this.” Making a soft noise as he grins, Harry massages Louis' shoulder. “I meant the wedding. I just hope it does William justice without making it too dramatic or too sentimental.”

Slowly nodding against Harry's chest, Louis says, “Well, it's definitely going to be emotional, but that's not a bad thing at all.”

“I'm just glad we don't have to sing the song.”

For a minute they thought of singing a song for William that Louis wrote right after his passing, but Niall, Liam and Zayn offered to do it instead, because Harry couldn't even make it through the song without crying during rehearsals. There's no way that Louis' going to sing it alone, either. They used to perform for thousands of people every night, but they've never been good at singing for small audiences, let alone their own family and friends. You'd think the intimacy would make it easier, but it's the exact opposite.

“It's our wedding and our son's farewell ceremony. We don't have to do anything we don't want to.” Louis yawns loudly while he rubs his eyes with the back of his hand. When he lowers it, Harry grabs it and kisses his palm. “Can we go over the planning again?”

Louis sighs. “We've gone over it a hundred times already, babe.”

“I know,” Harry whines. “But I just want to make sure we don't forget anything.”

“Fine.” Rolling over on his back – as far as the backseat allows him to – Louis holds his hands up to count on his fingers. “Okay, so you're going to get ready with Gemma, while I get ready with Niall. At some point your parents will come to our house with James, and around five the first guests will arrive. Then you'll make your entrance at – what is it, six?” Harry nods and Louis continues. “I'll welcome you by taking you into my loving arms, of course,” Louis teases, causing Harry to giggle. “We'll then have dinner, say our goodbyes to William, have a drink, renew our vows, and then it's a party. And we will certainly not get drunk because we are responsible adults and parents,” Louis finishes with a grin.

“Well, I hope it will all be a bit more romantic and we won't rush through it like you just did.” Harry's voice sounds sarcastic, but he's smiling from cheek to cheek, showing off his adorable dimples.

“It will be perfect, love.”

They start to kiss and hands start to move, but then the light in Gemma's room flashes on. Feeling like young boys caught by their parents, they giggle as they crawl off of each other and out of the car.

“I should head back inside,” Harry whispers as if Gemma could hear him even though her window's closed.

Louis wraps his arms around his husband and starts kissing his neck, making sure he doesn't miss a single piece of skin. “Yeah, you should.”

“That really isn't fair.” A moan leaving his mouth, Harry pulls on some of Louis' hair. “I really have to go, Lou.”

Louis smiles against Harry's shoulder, because it sounds like he is having a harder time convincing himself than Louis. “Then go.” His hands are now under Harry's shirt, his fingertips tracing the soft lines of his abs.

Harry's voice is whiny, like there's no willpower left, when he says, “Stop.”

“Then push me away.” Blue meets green as Louis pulls back a bit, but then Harry suddenly puts his hands on his shoulders and pushes him, his back pinned against the car, and Harry pinned to his chest. They kiss one more time, passionately and hard, and for a moment Louis worries that his lip might show a bruise later that day.

After what feels like only a second, Harry pulls away and starts making his way toward the house. He turns his head one last time and smiles. “See you soon, Lou.”

Louis smiles back, and his cheeks actually hurt from smiling and kissing, as does the crinkly skin around his eyes. He raises his hand to wave and says, “See you soon, Haz.”

 

**· · · · · · · ·**

 

“Mum, could you please stop?”

“I just want everything to be perfect for my boy!”

“I'm thirty two years old, Mum,” Louis laughs. “I haven't been your boy in ages.”

Jay raises her eyebrows. “I'm pretty sure you like it when Harry says it.”

“That's different.” Fidgeting with the hem of his button up, Louis smiles to himself. “Besides, putting on and taking off my shirt a hundred times isn't going to make it any more perfect.”

Louis was supposed to get ready with Niall, but his mother came over to his house to help, anyway. She's spent the past thirty minutes ironing Louis' shirt – putting it on him and then taking it off again to smooth out a small crease she accidentally skipped seconds before.

“Just let me do this,” she stresses as she lets the iron glide over the fabric.

Louis glances at the clock on the wall and he feels a sudden rush of haste coming over him. “Hurry up, Mum. The guests will be here in thirty minutes and you still need to get dressed.”

She ignores the face he's making when she pulls his arm through the sleeve to see if it's finally done. “I will be fine, Louis. I just need to –“

Louis interrupts her and he smiles softly. “I'll ask Niall to finish with me. Go get ready.”

Shaking her head at first, she eventually takes his in her hands and kisses the top of it before walking out the door.

Looking at himself in the mirror he pulls his arm through the other sleeve. He tries to smile and sees that it's a nervous smile, causing him to grin. Why is he so goddamn nervous?

He starts to make his way to the stairs, but stops when he sees someone standing in William's room. Didn't he close the door this morning? When he moves closer, he sees that that someone is Niall, holding the same stuffed animal that Louis and Harry hold so often. He's already dressed for the wedding, and something about him standing there wearing a tux while holding the purple elephant looks really, really sad.

Niall startles when Louis puts his hand on his shoulder, and he puts the toy back in the crib as fast as he can. He tries to smile as he turns around, but there's a tear forming in the corner of his eye that he wipes away quickly.

“Hey, Lou. Are you ready?”

The movement almost too small to see, Louis shakes his head as he smiles back tenderly. “You don't have to pretend.”

“Well, it's your wedding day, and –“

“And he was your godson.” Louis firmly grabs both of Niall's shoulders now, squeezing them softly with his small hands. “This day is about him too, I'm sad anyway.”

Letting his head hang down, Niall mutters, “Bloody hell, I haven't heard that word ever since the day he died.”

“What word?”

'Godson.' Niall raises his head just enough to glance at Louis through his eyelashes, and the look on his face shows nothing but grief. “I've been pretending like he's just your son, because that's bad enough, but dammit, he was my godson. Those two boys are the closest thing I have to a family.”

Smiling softly in an attempt to comfort Niall, Louis nods. “I'm going to tell you the same thing I tell myself and Harry, because it's just enough solace to keep it bearable; you still have James.”

Niall now raises his head all the way to bring his eyes on the same level as Louis', and he just nods back.

“What made you realize it now?” Louis asks.

“I just wanted to go into his room, because of the ceremony tonight, you know. I've been here since that night, but today I allowed myself to just stand here and take it all in. It just hit me.”

Louis inhales deeply as he moves in to embrace his best friend. “I know the feeling, believe me.”

They just stand there for a while, their arms wrapped around each other. With pretty much everyone else, it annoys Louis when they tell him how sad they are about William. To him, they're just complaining, because it's ten times worse for him. Since Niall was really involved in William's life for a year and a half, he thinks he understands. He's also never acted like his grief was somehow more important than Louis', like some people have.

They didn't give much thought to making someone the twins' godparents at first, because their parents are still alive and involved. To not step on anyone's toes, Louis and Harry asked them if they were okay with Niall being the boys' godfather before making it official. Even to them it was only natural.

And now here they are – one of their fathers and their godfather hugging it out, sad because only one is left. Louis doesn't think anyone even considers this as a possibility when they decide to have children. You raise your kids, you live for them and have all the fun in the world because you have them. Eventually you pass away and they live on to raise their own children. That's the cycle. The only way to describe the situation they're in is unfair.

Niall rubs Louis' back as he pulls back and says, “We should get you ready.” He already turns to exit the room, but Louis stops him by grabbing his wrist.

“There's something I want to talk to you before we go out there.”

“What is it?”

Louis now holds the stuffed animal close to his chest and he realizes the thing doesn't even have a name. Smiling down at it, he says, “Haz and I have decided to have another baby.” He takes his eyes off of the elephant and directs his gaze at Niall, who has tears in his eyes again that he tries to hide, but he's smiling from cheek to cheek.

“That is really great, Louis. When is this happening?”

“Well, it's quite a process we have to go through that will probably take some time, but I don't think we'll wait long to start it.”

Niall nods and watches his hand as he puts it on the side of the crib before looking back up at Louis.

Laughing and shaking his head, Louis says, “Haz really wants to have a girl.”

“Don't you?”

“I would love to have a girl,” Louis confirms. “But you know, even in our situation you can't plan that. But we'll be happy either way. I don't want to replace William in any way, because that's impossible, but I think our family will feel more whole again, you know what I mean?”

It is then that the doorbell rings and they look at each other through wide eyes.

“Shit,” Louis laughs while Niall takes the elephant from him and puts it back. They make their way to the door and push each other through it, trying to go both at the same time.

“Go get ready, Tommo. I'll try to take care of whoever that is.”

Niall runs down the stairs while Louis waits at the top of it to see who it is. His heart skips a beat when he sees that it's Gemma, hoping that Harry came with her. When she says that she dropped Harry off at her mother's, Louis can breathe again.

Once back in his own room, Louis looks at himself in the mirror as he puts his vest on, preparing himself for whatever is to come.

 

**· · · · · · · ·**

 

James welcomes his father downstairs by stretching out his little arms, asking him to pick him up. “Big day, Daddy!” he cheers.

Laughing, Louis scoops him up off the floor and bounces him on his hip as he admires how adorable his boy looks in his little suit. “It sure is, big guy. You look very handsome.”

“You too, Daddy.” James seems to be fascinated by Louis' quiff, because he rarely sees him dressed up. He usually loves to play with his hair, but today he just stares at it without touching.

Louis grins lovingly and says, “Thank you very much. Hey, can you tell me where your father is?”

“He's in the kitchen!” James turns around in Louis' arms pointing towards the living room.

Suddenly feeling butterflies flutter in his stomach, Louis wonders what he should do. For the past week, they've gone over every detail of the wedding, but apparently forgot to discuss this. Are they supposed to meet each other with all the guests present? Usually the couple meets at the alter, but since there is none and they're supposed to have dinner and William's ceremony first, they obviously have to meet before they renew their vows.

He gives in to his need to see Harry, and carefully makes his way through the living room with James still sitting on his hip.

“Oh, look at you two!” Anne squeals quickly covering her open mouth with her hand. While Harry turns around to see what she's so excited about, she adds, “You're adorable!”

“We are handsome, Nana,” James corrects her.

Harry's face lights up at the sight of his husband and son, and he rushes around the kitchen island to hug the both of them at the same time. “Daddy, that hurts.” James sounds a bit annoyed at the tightness of his hug, so he quickly pulls back a bit, rubbing James' knee.

Louis repositions the boy on his hip and gives Harry a quick kiss. “Hi, love.”

“Hey, hubbie.”

“Are you ready?” Louis wraps his arm around his man, his hand pressed against the curve of his back.

Harry's smile is a melancholic one when he says, “I am for the fun part.”

“What's the fun part?” James leans forward a bit to grab one of Harry's curls and Louis lets go of Harry to make sure his son doesn't fall off his arm.

“The fun part is our wedding, bud,” Harry says.

Confusion takes over James' smile and he does his usual thinking face. “So what's the not-fun part?”

Harry quickly looks at Louis for backup, and the latter says, “Do you remember that we talked about not really having said goodbye to William?” James is still curling his father's hair around his little fingers, so Louis pulls his arm back and repeats the question. “Do you remember?” Sure that he has James' full attention, Louis shrugs and says, “Well, that's what we're going to do today.”

James nods slowly again, his little face all seriousness, and he suddenly squirms a bit in Louis' arms and stretches his own out to Harry. Placing the boy on his hip, Harry gives Louis an almost apologetic look. It's not Louis' fault that things are the way they are, but maybe it seems that way to James because he is the only one who has been here through all of it. Maybe Harry seems a bit more distant from the situation to him. James has barely seen him cry yet, because he's better at doing that behind closed doors than Louis. Also, Louis is the one who once upon a time couldn't be bothered to make his son food, too sad to get out of bed or up off the couch. He was hoping James wouldn't keep such things in mind, but maybe he does.

Deciding not to give it too much thought today, Louis leans forward to kiss the top of his son's head and rub his back. Harry rests his forehead on his shoulder and the side of his face against his neck as he whispers, “It's okay, baby,” before kissing it.

Louis smiles down at him and then looks around to see who's in the kitchen apart from them and Anne. He finds his own mother and some of his sisters, but that's it. “Are the other guests here yet?”

“I think some are already on the beach, want to check it out?” Harry asks, and Louis places his hand on the small of His back again as he guides him and James to the backdoor and eventually the porch.

Niall, Liam and Zayn are already on the beach along with some guests, and they cheer loudly as they see the family emerge from the house. Louis guesses they look cool in their matching beige suits, like a little squad.

“Uncle Niall!” James yells enthusiastically, like he hasn't seen him in ages. “Daddy, put me down, please.” He squirms a bit in Harry's arms until his tiny dress shoes touch the wooden floor and they run down the stairs.

His arms now free, Harry wraps one around Louis' shoulders, and their lips lock shortly.

“Wait, is that Sophia?”

Louis looks in the direction Harry's pointing and he spots a young brunette in a tight black dress, carrying a little girl James' age. “Yeah, that's her. That must be Melissa, then.”

“I didn't expect her to come, did you?”

Louis shrugs. “Who knows what's going on between those two. Come on, let's go say hi.”

With their hands locked, the wedding pair makes their way down the stairs, taking in the sight as they do so. The part of the beach in front of their house is enclosed with torches stuck in the sand, there are two long tables aligned with each other in the middle, all set for dinner and covered in candles ready to be lit as soon as the sun decides to call it a day. Gemma was smart enough to get them lots of wooden pallets that are put down as an improvised floor, so the tables and chairs can't sink in the sand. After they have dinner, the catering company will take the long tables away, leaving smaller round ones in the sand, and the pallets will serve as a dance floor. It was all Gemma's idea, and Harry was so proud of his sister when she told him what she had in mind.

As they walk over to where their friends are cuddling James, Harry welcomes some family members he comes across, and tells them they can sit down at the tables if they want to. Everyone has their own name card, with – of course – a little anchor drawn on it. They specifically decided to mix their families up, and since pretty much everyone knows each other already, that shouldn't be a problem.

“You've made it,” Louis says as he embraces Liam. He hasn't seen him since he went back to England to work things out with his wife, and he's happy to have him back.

“Of course I've made it. Wouldn't miss your second wedding for the world,” Liam teases as he answers Louis' hug.

“Dickhead.” Letting go of him, Louis turns his body in the opposite direction. “I see Sophia's here. Did you guys work it out?”

Liam shrugs. “It's going to take more time than this, of course, but so far so good. It's weird, like my absence made everything better, even though I was only gone for a couple of weeks. I mean, she picked me up from the airport and hugged me for the first time since... I can't even remember when she last hugged me before that.”

Louis nods understandingly. It's a whole different situation, but he's still surprised by how close Harry and him have been since he woke up, so he kind of gets it.

“Well, I'm glad,” he says as he pats Liam on the back. “I'm just going to say hi to her.”

As he walks away to do exactly that, he feels some sand falling into his dress shoes, and he asks himself why exactly they decided to have the wedding on the beach. But then again, if a bit of sand in his shoes is the worst part of the day, it's not that bad, is it?

“Hi, Sophia.” He smiles softly as he puts his hand on her shoulder.

Her face is happy, but kind of embarrassed and surprised as she turns around, almost as if she didn't expect to see him there even though it's his own wedding. “Hi, Louis.”

She puts Melissa on the ground, and Louis shortly rubs the girl's head before she runs off to her father, her long brown hair flowing behind her in the wind.

“Thank you for having us,” Sophia says, her voice as sincere as possible.

Louis shrugs as he sticks his hands in his pockets.”'No problem. Thank you for coming, it means a lot to Liam.” She just nods to the ground, so he adds, “It's been quite some time.”

Looking up, she smiles again. “I actually asked Liam and I guess we've last seen each other at your first wedding, so, five years?”

Kicking some sand back and forth between his feet, Louis simply nods. He doesn't get why this is so awkward, but it is, like there are things unspoken hanging in the air, ready to be said. She's right, they haven't seen each other in five years, and even before that, they barely ever spoke to each other. It's not like he doesn't like her, at all, they've just never had much to talk about. Back in the day whenever they saw each other, they just talked about the band, upcoming tours and such.

“Louis, I'm sorry for what happened to you and Harry, I really am.” She puts her hand on Louis' lower arm and he just watches it lie there. “I'm also sorry that Liam and I never reached out to you. I guess we're all just so caught up in our own lives these days that –”

“It's fine,” Louis cuts her off, and he's not sure as to why. “I've gone over this with Liam, and you don't really owe me anything, so. I'm just going to go back now, yeah?” He feels her hand slip off his arm as he walks away. It's not that he's annoyed by her, he just doesn't need this right now. He's preparing himself for what he's going to say at William's little ceremony, and he doesn't need anyone's pity while doing it, certainly not someone's who's never really been relevant to his life.

“Are you okay?” Harry frowns when Louis slips his arm around his waist and pulls him in close, softly kissing his jaw from behind.

“Yeah, I'm fine,” Louis replies as he closes his eyes and stands even closer to Harry, resting his chin on his shoulder.

It's not until one of his uncles greats him that he opens his eyes, but he keeps his arm around Harry. After making small talk with some more family members for a while, one of the caterers comes over to tell the wedding pair that dinner's ready to be served. They tell her they'll take their seats shortly, and look each other in the eye exhaling sharply at the same time. It's as if a million words are being spoken between them without even a sound being made. Words of solace, words of encouragement – basically words of love.


	16. Sixteen

 

Sixteen

**· · · · ֍ · · · ·**

 

"Dearly beloved,” Louis says standing up after they finish dinner. It's more of a joke than a serious remark, and he's relieved to hear people laughing.

James looks up at him from Harry's lap, and Louis smiles once more, endeared by how adorable their son looks in his suit. He turns back to their family and friends sitting at the tables, and says, “As you all know, tonight is a night of both joy and grief. I just want to welcome you all and thank you for joining us on such a special evening.” He clears his throat and is worried that he's already going to start tearing up, so he's glad when he feels Harry grab his hand.

“I'll now say something about both the ceremony we've organized for William, as well as mine and Harry's wedding – or well, the renewal of our vows. Since it is too emotional for either of us to speak during the actual ceremony, our dear friend Niall,” He looks to his right and winks at the Irishman. “has taken on the very hard job instead. So ehm...”

Dammit, Louis has prepared this speech so many times, and now that he's standing here, he has no idea what to say. A little desperate, he looks down at his left, and Harry smiles up at him nodding slightly, encouraging him to go on. He takes a sip of his water before he does so.

“I'm sorry, this is harder than I thought it would be. It's been a little over three years since we welcomed our lovely boys, William and James, into the world, and it's a day we will never forget. I will also never forget the day when their birth mother told us she wasn't having just one little rascal.” He smiles at the memory. “'Twins?' Harry asked me over and over again, and I too couldn't contain my excitement. We actually didn't quite believe it until we got to hold them in our arms for the first time. I can still see us standing there in the hospital – James in Harry's arms, William in mine.” He stops to pinch at the bridge of his nose in an attempt to keep in his tears, and shakes his head. Harry quickly gets up from his seat to hug him, handing James over to his mother, and Louis notices that he is crying too.

“No, Daddy, don't cry!” James cries from his spot on his grandma's lap, and he squirms out of her grasp. Begging for his father's attention, he clings to Louis' leg, and he finally gets him to pick him up.

Louis hugs his son and husband tightly before Harry sits back down again, never letting go of Louis' hand but taking James from him. Harry cradles the little boy against his chest to sooth him, and motions to Louis that he can continue.

When Louis turns back to his audience, he sees that almost everyone is wiping away tears at this point – some have even taken out tissues. He inhales deeply making sure he can speak, wondering if he's going to make it through his entire speech without ending up sobbing uncontrollably.

“We had wonderful years together, we really did. That fateful night on this exact beach half a year ago tore my world apart. Not only did I lose one of my beautiful boys, but I wasn't sure if I would ever get to hold my dear husband again, whom I love so incredibly much.” He stops talking again and lets out a sob at the memory of feeling so lost, so unsure of everything he'd ever known. Turning to Harry, he tries to continue speaking in between sobs, thinking that maybe it's easier to talk directly to him.

“I am so grateful and happy that I at least still have you, even though such a big part of our family is gone. Thank you for coming back to me, and making me appreciate life a little more again, because I had honestly lost all faith.” He smiles softly when Harry kisses the back of his hand, wetting it with his tears. “I have wondered if this was the right thing to do – combining Will's ceremony and our wedding, I mean – and I've come to the conclusion that it's actually the perfect thing to do. See, this ceremony isn't just for William, it's for everything that happened that night, and it's for closure. We will never forget William, nor what happened, but maybe we can now somehow leave it behind us, and start the next chapter of our life and marriage.

“Since I've already thanked Harry – even though I could never thank him enough – I now want to thank everyone who's been here for us. Our families, our parents, but mostly Niall. Ever since he moved here two years ago, he's been a vital part of our little family, and even more so after William passed away. I can honestly say that I wouldn't have made it if it wasn't for him. Not only did he not mind staying up with me night after night just to hear me cry and complain – whether in person or over the phone, but he was also always here for James when I couldn't be.”

He sends a loving and grateful look Niall's way, and then looks to his left to see that James is back on Harry's lap. Taking his hand out of Harry's, he places it on James' little head and smiles at him.

“Which brings me to our wonderful son, our sunshine. It's all been very confusing for you and I know how happy you are to have your daddy back. Sadly, I also know that I have not always treated you right through all of this, and I hope from the bottom of my heart that someday you'll understand why. You are very excited to be the ring bearer tonight,” That causes a cheer from the crowd. “and I wouldn't want it any other way. I love you, buddy.”

Ending his speech, he crouches down next to Harry and takes James into his arms while Harry wraps his around the both of them, sobbing onto Louis' shoulder.

“That was beautiful, baby,” he whispers in Louis' ear.

“I was a complete mess.”

At the touch of a hand on his shoulder, Louis turns around as he stands up to find that it's Niall. Embracing each other the latter says, “Thank you, Lou. I love you.”

“I love you too, man.”

Pulling back a bit, Niall sighs, “And I still have to give my speech, thanks.”

Louis laughs weakly. “You can't do much worse than I just did.”

Their little talk is interrupted by Gemma, who places her hand on Niall's back. She gives him an apologetic look as she says, “Sorry, Ni, but I think it's best if we just get this part over with since everyone is sad now. I have William's urn here. Do you want to have it with you while you give your speech, or should I put it down somewhere?”

Taken back a bit, Niall just nods processing what she just said. “Just put it on a table near me, thank you.”

Louis hugs him again and says, “You can do this, mate. And if not, just apologize and everyone will understand.” It's almost funny, or at least ironic, how Louis is giving him advice now, considering he was the one sobbing embarrassingly only minutes ago. At the same time, maybe that's why he will take it, because it's always better to receive advice from someone who can relate.

Slowly walking towards the spot where he will be giving his speech, Niall finishes his glass of water. William's urn is right in front him, and there's a white sheet hanging from the porch behind him where they'll be showing pictures of William after he finishes.

Niall waits until everyone is seated again, and then clears is throat multiple times looking at Louis who gives him the thumbs up.

“Hi, everybody,” Niall starts with a short and clumsy wave of his hand. “First of all, I'd like to thank Louis for his kind words. Now to start my own, let me just warn you; I probably won't make it through my speech without crying, so please excuse me for that. The thing is... I think that apart from Louis and Harry, I'm the person who's spend the most time with William. I used to babysit the twins whenever Louis and Harry wanted to do something by themselves, and I love those two little boys more than anything. I think the Uncle Niall they've created in their minds is a way better person than who I really am, but if I'm only half of who they imagine me to be, I guess I'm not so bad.

“I remember the night of the fire like it was yesterday. I wasn't there, obviously, but I remember Louis calling me, and feeling like the world was coming to an end. At first I couldn't even make out what he was trying to say, but I knew it was bad and I knew that it was either about Harry or the boys, because he wouldn't be sobbing as much if it wasn't. When it turned out to be about both I just...

“I've known Louis and Harry for fourteen years now, and they honestly feel like brothers to me. We've experienced something together that not many people understand, but it's more about what happened after that. No one could have ever thought that I would leave Ireland, but after my parents passed away and my brother left, I was lost, I guess. As you probably all know, I don't have a girlfriend, or a wife, or children – it's just me. I moved out here to look for some kind of family, and they have given me exactly that. They have included me in their lives from day one and also in that of their sons, and for that I am forever grateful.

“So Harry, you can't imagine how I felt when Louis told me about what happened to you. I want to take this opportunity to let you know how incredibly thankful I am to have you still sitting here in front of me. I don't think I have the heart to talk about William any more, so I'd like to leave it at this, sorry. All I want to say is that William, buddy, I love you and I miss you dearly. Thank you for the memories.”

He raises his glass of wine wiping away a single tear, and accepts Louis and Harry's hug as they get up from their seats and walk over to him. The two of them sit back down after Liam and Zayn hug them shortly, preparing to sing their song.

As soon as the music starts playing, pictures of William are projected onto the white sheet hanging from the porch. Louis and Harry watch them together – James sitting on Louis' lap, and Harry's arm wrapped around Louis' shoulders. The pictures are being shown in the order in which they were taken, creating a sort of time line of William's short life. Some cause people to cry – pictures of not even special but beautiful moments William has shared with his parents and brother, such as playing in the woods or on the beach – and some cause people to laugh – pictures of Louis dressed up as Santa Clause and chasing his sons around the house, for example.

Harry gently kisses Louis' temple as a tear rolls down from the corner of his eye, and Louis turns his head to make his lips meet Harry's. Lost in the moment, they give each other a few short kisses before they press their foreheads together. Really all they need right now is to feel each other, just to know they're there.

They get up when people start walking over to them to give them their condolences. Louis takes his time talking to his mum and her husband. She cries against his shoulder and keeps telling him how beautiful his words were. Eventually she manages to dry her tears and lets him go, just to start crying again the second she sees Harry.

After shaking everybody's hand, accepting hugs, and saying thank you's, Harry raises his hand to get everybody's attention and says, “Sorry we have put you all through this agony, but the rest of the night will be fun, we promise.”

**· · · · · · · ·**

 

"Well, the hard part is done. Now all we have to do is get married, which should be easy considering we've already done that once.”

Louis and Harry are sitting on their bed, and Louis watches as their hands intertwine. They just had to get away from all the people for a while and decided their bedroom would be the safest. A couple of people have asked if they could see William's room, and Niall's giving them the tour while the wedding couple relaxes.

“Oh Louis Tomlinson, how easy you make it sound,” Harry says as he kicks off his dress shoes to lie down on the covers.

Louis follows his example and cuddles up to his side. “What, you don't think marrying me was the easiest thing you've ever done?”

“I think _being_ married to you is the easiest thing I've ever done, the getting part is a whole different story. I don't like being out there in front of all those people.”

They have to cuddle carefully and make sure they do not mess up their suits or hairdo's, so Louis cautiously places the side of his head on Harry's shoulder.

“You used to perform for about 60.000 people daily and now you can't even speak in front of a couple dozen? What in the hell ever happened to the famous Mister Harry Styles?”

Harry giggles at that and softly pinches Louis' arm. “He died the second I became Mister Harry Tomlinson. And you used to be right up there with me, but you didn't look so confident, either, giving your speech about an hour ago.”

Louis giggles too and they just lay there staring at the ceiling for a while. The sun is almost gone by now, and there's only a stripe of light left in the room, making the vibe serene.

“You don't think we could go for a quick shag, do you?” Louis whispers with a huge grin on his face.

“It's our wedding day, we can do whatever we want.”

Louis shifts a bit to look up at Harry from his spot on his shoulder. “You want to?”

Looking down, Harry's eyes sparkle and he bites his lip as he nods. He reminds Louis of a schoolboy agreeing to do something he shouldn't, and it only makes him love him more.

“We should probably take our clothes of ourselves, can't show up downstairs looking freshly fucked.”

They wiggle off of the bed and do as Louis suggested. He doesn't know why, but he suddenly feels very naked, standing there in the middle of the room with nothing but his white briefs on. Nervously covering his bulge with his hand he giggles again and makes his way back to the bed.

“They will be able to tell by our hair, though,” Harry laughs as he sits down too.

“Not if we do it sitting up.” Louis starts crawling over to where his husband is sitting on the edge and swings one leg over his.

Harry watches him do so and eventually smiles up at him, dimples deep. “You have the best ideas these days.”

Louis rocks his hips back and forth a couple of times, riding Harry to make sure he's hard, but he really doesn't have to. Eventually he moves his briefs down just far enough to be able to open himself up, and Harry watches his every move. On one hand that makes him nervous, but on the other it turns him on. It's kind of like the time they watched each other masturbate. Louis had never felt so exposed, but knowing that it turned his man on did the same for him.

“Ready?” Louis asks under his breath as he pulls Harry's briefs down too, just far enough to take him out. When Harry nods with his mouth half open, Louis slides him in and he whimpers softly.

The rest of it is pure cuteness, a little clumsy even – Harry can't stop laughing after Louis almost falls off his lap and he has to catch him, Louis rips his underwear because he can't move properly, and eventually they have to cover each other's mouth as they moan and groan, giggling at the thought of Niall and their guests being next door.

“If we had recorded it, it would've been the worst porno ever made,” Harry says, still not able to stop laughing. “You fell off my lap, for Christ's sake!”

“Almost,” Louis corrects him, but he can't stop laughing either. “And those were my favorite briefs, fuck. I can't seem to think straight with you inside me.”

“Well, get off me then.” Harry slaps his bum playfully. “We should head back, anyway.”

 

They don't let go of each other's hand until their back outside, and even then Louis doesn't really want to. With longing eyes he watches Harry walk off to talk to some guests until he feels someone pat his back. He turns around to see who it is, and smiles when he sees that it's his mother.

The second she sees his face, hers turns into a large grin. “Did you two just...?”

“Oh my God, Mum, don't.”

'No really, did you?' She laughs as if it's hilarious and grabs his shoulders. “You couldn't wait until the wedding night, could you?”

Louis tries his hardest to keep a straight face, but a small laugh escapes his mouth. “Mum, seriously, stop it.”

“How often do you –”

“Mum, I'm not having this conversation with you!”

“Why not? You think your old mother doesn't notice when you do the dance with no pants?”

“The dance with no pants, really Mum?” Louis rubs his hand down his face laughing. “You really are old.”

“Okay okay, I'll let you off the hook. How are you feeling?”

“To be honest, horny.”

“Louis!” Her jaw drops.

He shrugs and laughs. “You asked how I feel, that's how I feel!”

Shaking her head, Jay says, “Okay, let's try again. How do you think the night's going so far?”

“It's going good.” He smiles softly. “Giving my speech obviously wasn't easy, but apart from that I'd say it's been beautiful. Hey, do you happen to know where my very adorable son is?”

“Last time I saw him he was playing on the beach with Zayn.”

Louis' eyes move over the sand until he finds them, and he excuses himself to his mother before he starts making his way toward them. The evening air is turning a bit chilly, and he hopes that everyone will be able to keep themselves warm the entire night. They stacked some heaters in their garage, and he figures they should pull them out soon. Moving them down the porch stairs will be a bitch, but they'll simply have to.

As soon as Zayn spots him, he exposes the exact same grin Jay did just minutes ago, and Louis rolls his eyes. “Is it really that obvious?”

Zayn laughs while he hands a sea shell to James who takes it eagerly. “I practically lived with you and Harry for years, so yes, to me it is.”

“Great.”

Louis crouches down and opens his arms, watching James waddle towards him. He circles his arms around him and kisses the top of his head.

“Hi, Daddy.” He uses the voice he always does when he tries to hide that he's tired, and Louis ignores it. He won't take him away from the party, knowing it would only cause him to protest by crying loud enough to keep the whole neighborhood up.

“Hey, Jimmy Jam.”He notices that James crosses his legs as he stands between his father's and asks, “Do you have to go potty?”

“Yes,” he replies in a whiny voice and he starts jumping up and down, barely able to keep it in.

Zayn moves his hand through his hair and keeps it at the top of his head. “I'm sorry, Lou, I didn't notice.”

“Oh, he probably didn't even act like it until I got here. I'll have to take him from you now, sorry.” He takes James into his arms as he stands up and smiles at Zayn before walking back to the house.

“Are you enjoying the night, buddy?” Louis asks in an attempt to distract his son from his full bladder.

“Yes,” is all James says and Louis knows that he's close to giving in, so he speeds up his pace.

“Sorry people, kid on the verge of peeing coming through,” Louis shouts as he makes his way through the crowd, but it's too late. He feels his hand and stomach getting wet under James as the boy starts to sob into his neck.

“Sorry, Daddy,” he cries.

Louis pulls him in closer, not really caring about his button up being ruined right now, and he rubs his boy's back while he hushes in his ear. “It's okay, baby, we'll get you dry clothes.”

Harry is suddenly by their side and presses his hand against the small of Louis' back as they walk inside the house. “Is he okay?”

'He's fine, he just weed his pants.'

Handing James over to Harry, Louis takes in the damage done to his shirt to find a huge yellow stain covering most of it.

“That's no reason for your tears, sweetie.” Harry presses his lips in James' hair. “Your daddies are going to get you a new outfit, it's no problem.”

“But then I won't look like you,” James sobs referring to their matching suits and the words tug at Louis' heart.

“I'm going to get a new outfit too, Jame, so we'll find something matching,” he says.

“Mine is probably ruined by now too,” Harry chimes in. “So I'll join your matching party, how's that sound?”

James seems to feel a bit better by the time Harry starts to undress him to give him a quick bath while Louis gets the three of them new outfits. He decides to go for the black suits with white shirts they once wore to an event and brings them to the bathroom where he starts to undress himself as well. He quickly washes his stomach and gets dressed again before he takes over on bathing James so that Harry can do the same.

Rubbing his eyes with the back of his fists James yawns. Louis gently moves a sponge between the boy's short legs and asks, “Are you tired, Jim?”

James nods cautiously. “I don't want to go to bed, though.”

“You don't have to.” Louis smiles tenderly. “You can party with us. But tell either of your daddies when you have to potty again or get too tired, okay? Can you promise me that?'

“Yes, Daddy.” James smiles back and stretches out his arms for Louis to pick him up, who mentally pats himself on the back for keeping the boy's curls dry.

He takes James out of the water and puts him on a towel, holding out another one to dry him off. When he's finished, he quickly puts him in his new suit and dress shoes.

“Look at you!” Harry smiles as he squats down to James' eye level. “You look like a gentleman. This suit is so much cooler than the other one.” He pulls a face as if the one he wore before is ugly, and that gets a giggle out of him.

“Silly daddy,” James laughs shaking his head.

Louis softly massages Harry's shoulders from behind and laughs too. “You're both silly. Ready to go downstairs, boys?”

Standing up and taking his son's hand in his, Harry whispers in his ear, “Boys?”

“Yeah, you're a very sexy boy.” Louis winks as he pinches Harry's bum before they make their way down the stairs.

 

“Sorry everyone, we had a little accident,” Louis says as he looks out over the crowd on the beach with Harry and James standing on either side of him.

Gemma is suddenly behind them and says, “Well, it's good that you're back, because it's time for you to renew your vows.”

When Louis turns around, she smiles lovingly, and he sighs deeply to keep calm. Clearing his throat he takes Harry's hand in his own. “Let's do this, babe.”

Everyone claps and cheers as they make their way over to where they're supposed to be, and Louis smiles to himself. They leave James with their parents and kiss him one last time before they proceed their way to meet the officiant. The scenery is lit by all the burning torches sticking out of the sand, making it look almost mysterious. All the guests sit back down in their seats and their eyes are filled with anticipation as they watch Louis and Harry stand in their place.

The officiant breaks the ice by making the usual jokes, and they work because everyone laughs – Louis and Harry a bit more nervously than the others. When Louis takes in the crowd, he sees that James is settled on Niall's lap, resting against his chest trying his hardest to keep his eyes open. Louis smiles at them and then turns back to Harry – God, he's beautiful.

They might be wearing the same type of suit, but Louis is sure that Harry looks ten times better in it than he does, there's no doubt. He's put his hair up in a neat bun while Louis was bathing James, and Louis wonders for a second if he's ever looked this hot – but then again he asks himself that pretty much every time he sees him. Harry's cheeks are flushed in the most adorable way and Louis wishes he could kiss both of them, but his thoughts are interrupted by the officiant.

“Louis?”

“I'm sorry, what?”

The crowd laughs and Harry grins at him. _God, this is embarrassing._

“It's time to read your vows,” the officiant says.

“Oh, right.”

He blushes as he takes the paper out of the pocket of his jacket, and he takes his time to unfold it in an attempt to clear his mind. _Don't screw this up, Tommo,_ he thinks to himself.

Looking up at Harry first, he finally directs his gaze back to the piece of paper in his hands and starts to read.

“Once upon a time there was a _little boy_ who always wanted to love another _little boy_. One day he finally found that love and it was wonderful.” He looks up at Harry and smiles. “I heard that once and at first it reminded me of us. Part of it's true; I was a little boy who was looking, but I was looking for my place in the world and maybe even for a girlfriend, because that was the way it was supposed to be. The first time I met you, I found it. You may not have been a girlfriend, but you are my place in the world.

“Traditional vows say 'as long as we both shall live', but for a few minutes I thought that maybe you weren't alive anymore, and I realized that our love is much stronger than life. I therefore vow to have and to hold you, in tears and in laughter, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, from this day forward in this life and the next.”

“Is it really bad if I kiss him?” Harry suddenly asks the officiant, who laughs and shakes his head.

“Since you're already married, I guess not.”

Harry couldn't have done it quicker if he wanted to, and Louis almost falls over when he presses his lips against his and locks his arms around him. The crowd goes crazy and Louis laughs into the kiss.

“We have an audience, sweetheart.”

“I don't care, kiss me,” Harry says under his breathe and Louis obeys his command. They kiss for a few seconds, wrestling their tongues and laughing at the same time, before the officiant stops them.

“Maybe we should proceed,” he laughs, and Louis and Harry give each other a quick kiss before they tidy their suits and stand back in their places.

“Harry, the floor's yours.”

He doesn't take as long as Louis did to prepare himself, but simply takes his hand in his and starts speaking while his eyes never leave Louis'.

“My dearest Lou, I want to apologize for having left you, even though it was not by choice, and to thank you for never having done the same to me. You have stuck by me through the good and the bad, and I hereby promise you I'll do the same from this day forward.

“I vow to be your voice when you can't speak, your eyes when you can't see, and your ears when you can't hear. I vow to be your legs when you can't walk, your arms when you can't hold, and above all, I vow to be your strength when you are weak. I love you.”

Louis smiles with watery eyes as he leans forward to give Harry another quick kiss, and the rest of the ceremony goes by in a flash to him. Maybe he should be paying attention to whatever the officiant is rambling on about, but all his senses are pointed to Harry. They keep staring at each other, and Louis is lost in his green eyes, the way the shape of his cheekbones still amazes him – everything about him. It's not until Harry squeezes his hand a little that he sees James making his way down the aisle.

He waddles slowly, his legs tired and his face shy, and Harry crouches down opening his arms, telling him it's alright. James smiles at him and speeds up his pace, making his way into his father's arms as fast as he can without tripping over his own little feet.

The guests let out a synchronized 'aww' as James hands the rings over to Louis and jumps into Harry's arms.

“Good job, bud,” Louis whispers as he gives him a quick but wet kiss, and James looks quite pleased with himself.

When the ceremony is finally coming to its end – Louis just wants to get the party started, to be honest – they put the rings back on each other's hands. Louis looks down at his and he feels whole again, not naked and incomplete like he did the past few days.

When the officiant tells them they can “each kiss the groom”, they happily obey to him with James still sitting on Harry's arm, who playfully pats Louis' cheek.

“Ready to party, big boy?” Harry asks James when he manages to remove his lips from Louis', and the boy nods eagerly.

They make their way through the crowd, shaking hands and accepting congratulations, until they reach the bar and Gemma pops up beside them. She hands both of them a glass of champagne and has a very satisfied look on her face.

“What are you smirking about?” Louis asks suspiciously.

“You didn't check your rings, did you?” she asks back, and when Louis and Harry look at each other, a little confused, she says, “Oh come on, do it!”

After Harry puts James down and he runs off, they both take off their rings and tilt them in every direction to look for any differences. Louis smiles when he finally sees it – opposite the little text engraved on the inside, there are now two letters: _J &W_. He looks up at Harry to see if he's found them yet, and judging by the tears in his eyes, he guesses he has.

“It's beautiful, Gem, thank you,” Harry says before kissing her cheek.

She smiles and shrugs. “Consider it my wedding gift. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go get myself embarrassingly drunk now.”

“Thanks, Gem,” Louis says with a kind smile. “But please stay away from Niall, because he's planning to do them same and we do not need a repeat of our last wedding.”

She laughs at the memory and shakes her head. “Sorry about that, again. I'll just find someone else this time, or at least another bedroom than yours.” She winks and then runs off to one of Louis' sisters.

“Or another house!” Harry yells after her.

They move in to kiss each other, but stop when they feel a hand on their shoulders. When Louis turns around, he sees that it's Liam and he smiles broadly. “Hi Li, how's the night going for you?”

“Great,” Liam smiles back. “Could you two come with me for a second? There's something we'd like to tell you.”

“We?” Harry asks.

“Me and the lads.”

Not sure of what to expect, they follow Liam to one of the fire pits a couple of meters away from the dance floor, to find Niall and Zayn already there. They are sitting on foldable chairs and motion Louis and Harry to do the same.

Instead of each getting a chair of their own, Louis sits down on Harry's lap with his arm wrapped around his neck, and Harry pulls him in close.

“So, what's this about?” Louis asks.

“Straight at it, huh?” Niall laughs.

“Well, we reckon Liam didn't drag us out here for nothing,” Harry says. “Come on, tell us, what is it?”

Liam laughs and takes a sip of his champagne before opening his mouth to speak. “Sophia and I are getting a house here.”

“Wait, what?” Louis asks with big eyes.

“And I'm moving in with Niall,” Zayn adds, and Louis feels like he's going to fall off Harry's lap – again, goddammit.

“Again, what?” he says.

“Are you for real?” Harry asks in the same amount of disbelieve as Louis.

Liam claps his hands laughing. “Loving your reactions, mated. But yeah, for real. Remember how Sophia said that I wasn't the man she fell in love with anymore? Well, ever since I've been spending some time with you lot, she's seen him again. I've just really missed our time together and I didn't realize it until I was here. It sounds really cheesy but I guess you guys complete me.”

“That does sound really cheesy,” is all Louis manages as a response. “What about you, Zayn?”

Zayn shrugs. “Perrie's still gone, and even when she gets back I have no idea what I'm going to do. So Niall and I figured we'd rather be clueless together.” He high fives the Irishman sitting at his left.

“This is pretty amazing,” Harry says.

They all get up from their seats to hug one another, and it soon turns into romping – pushing each other over, climbing on top of each other, all of it. After a while they just lay on their backs in the sand, laughing up at the stars.

Louis rolls on his side to cuddle up to Harry, who kisses the top of his head and says, “I guess we finally get to make up for the lost years.” 


	17. Epilogue

 

Epilogue

**· · · · ֍ · · · ·**

 

As he walks in through the back door, Louis kicks off his snow boots and hangs his jacket over the radiator.He makes his way to the living room, where he catches James looking up at the pictures standing on the mantelpiece. There are four of them in total, and Louis doesn't even have to guess which one his son is looking at.

Walking up to him he asks, “Hey man, what are you doing?”

“Just looking at William, thinking,” he replies.

James is turning eight today, so naturally, William would be too. It's days like these that hit James the hardest. So far he's spent every birthday party being sad and looking at pictures of his twin brother. The part where he gets to open his presents excites him, of course, but for the rest of the day Louis and Harry balance between trying to make him feel better and leaving him alone, but the only person he really talks to at times like these is Niall.

Louis stands by his side and looks at the picture as well, sticking his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “Yeah? What are you thinking?”

James shrugs. “I was wondering what he would have looked like – if he had been alive today, I mean.”

“He would have looked just like you.” Louis smiles at him, but James keeps his gaze fixed on the black and white portrait in front of him.

For a while there's nothing but silence apart from the sound of chatter coming from outside, until James speaks again. He looks up at his father and asks, “Do you miss him?”

“Every day.” Louis smiles down at him again. “But we have you, and your brother and sister – who is waiting for you to come play with her, by the way.”

James nods. “I'll go find her.”

Ruffling James' curls as he walks by, Louis turns on his heel to start his way to the kitchen where he finds Harry. He kisses his cheek, and Harry asks, “Are you okay, sweetheart? The party's outside, you know.”

“I know, I was just checking up on our eldest son.” Louis grabs a glass of wine and sits down on one of the stools to look at the baby in Harry's arms. “Feeding him again?”

Harry nods as he wipes something off the baby's chin. “Little Edward eats a lot!” He tickles his tummy and the two month old smiles up at him. “Is everything alright with him?” he asks directing the conversation back to James.

“Yeah he's fine,” Louis says. “I guess he just misses William. It's amazing, considering he probably barely remembers him. They were so young.”

“He probably just misses the idea of him. You know, like kids who lose a parent at a young age.”

“Thank God that didn't happen,” Louis says and takes a sip of his wine.

“Do you think we did the right thing, though?” Harry looks up as he walks over to the fridge to put the rest of Edward's milk away. “Recreating his room in a house he's never been.”

“You keep asking me that and my answer is still that I think we did.” Louis shrugs. “We couldn't just throw everything away and we have the room to keep it, so why not? We don't have to visit his room often, it's just nice that it's there.”

Harry walks around the kitchen island to where Louis is sitting and gives him a quick kiss. “I guess you're right.”

Getting up from his stool, Louis takes the baby in his one arm and circles the other around Harry's waist as he directs him to the back yard. They take in the sight and smile to themselves.

 

There's a huge terrace, followed by a piece of grass the size of a football field surrounded by lots of trees. Behind them is a lake that they like to visit, but it can't be seen from their house. Everything's covered in snow now, flurries still circling down, making the scenery idyllic. They bought the estate three years ago when they found out they were having Anna. There wasn't enough room for two children in the beach house considering they wanted to keep William's room intact, and even back then they were pretty sure they'd have a fourth child as well.

After living in Los Angeles for a year, Liam and Sophia realized that the city of angels is not where they want their daughter Melissa, and now son Logan, to be raised. They quickly decided that America just wasn't for them, and moved back to their house in London that they still hadn't sold, just in case.

That's when the idea of living in England again crawled back under Louis and Harry's skins as well, and they started looking for places themselves. London was still out of the question for them, for the reason it had been all those years ago, and they decided for Leeds. The place where their love had blossomed so much.

So, they bought an old manor there and had it completely renovated, making it just a bit more American than it originally was, with porches and balconies all around, and huge pillars at the front and back. It's quite big and there are enough rooms that they barely use and therefore classify as guest rooms. Their siblings and parents stay over quite a lot, so it's perfect for them, but there are still rooms that have never been used.

Of course with all of them gone, there was no reason for Niall and Zayn – who still lived together after Zayn and Perrie broke up – to stay there, and they moved to Leeds as well. It took them about five seconds to decide to make the move with them, and they lived a couple of blocks away for a little over a year. Eventually, Zayn got back together with Perrie, and he moved back to London with her, leaving Niall alone once again.

It wasn't short after that Niall met a girl called Lauren at the local pub, and fell madly in love with her. She's perfect for him – they're equally down to earth but still caring, and she happens to be Irish and cherish a huge love for pints, which is a big deal for a guy like Niall. They live only three houses away from Louis and Harry now.

 

Now here they are, looking out at their children playing in the snow and their families mingling, with their newborn baby sleeping against Louis' chest.

Anna turns out to be exactly as Harry had hoped she would be – a female, miniature version of Louis. They watch her kicking a football towards Logan while James tries to keep their dog from chasing it, and her straight brown hair is pulled back into a ponytail. Harry tried his best to get her to wear dresses, but that's not her style. Jeans, a t-shirt and sneakers – that's the kind of gal she is. Sometimes she wears cowboy type of boots, but that's basically the only thing she copies off Harry. They can't see her bright blue eyes from this distance, but they know that they're crinkling, filled with joy and drive as she runs after the ball, trying not to trip over her own feet and the snow beneath them.

Louis looks up to his side to find Harry already looking down at him and he smiles, wondering for the millionth time what he ever did in his previous life to deserve a family like this.

Harry holds his chin as he kisses his lips softly and then whispers, “It's a good life, Lou.”

“Yes, it is.”


End file.
